The Leader
by krazy4kowalski
Summary: Skipper is the undisputed leader of the penguins. Or is he? What happens when Private, with a little help from Kowalski's latest invention, decides that it's time for him to step in? Will Skipper stay on top? Might get a little scary for some of you...R&R
1. Chapter 1

Hello again! Here's my second fanfiction! Well, actually, I wrote it a really long time ago, but I didn't exactly have the courage to publish it. Now, since people seemed to like my last story, There is a Reason, I've decided to put this on here. Yeah, I know, it's similar to a whole bunch of POM episodes like "King Julian for a Day", "Mort Unbound", and the upcoming "Loathe at First Sight", but in my defense, I wrote this story before all but "Mort Unbound" came out. And anyway, I hope you enjoy it despite all that copyrighted nonsense. Just to make it perfectly clear, I do not own POM! Seriously, I'd love to, but I don't. This is another of my Skipper and Private stories (no romance though) because I just can't get enough of them, I guess! And in later chapters, one of my other old favorites will come into play! It just goes to show you, you can't teach old fans new tricks! Well, you probably don't want to listen to me anymore. Enjoy!

**CHAPTER ONE**

Every animal at the Central Park Zoo has their own means of blocking out sound at night. Roy buries his head in hay. Burt shoves two peanuts in his ears. Roger goes underwater. The lemurs use the earmuffs they stole from the penguins. And since they refused to return them, three penguins lay in their bunks, cringing every time they heard an explosion coming from Kowalski's lab.

"That does it!" Skipper yelled, as a powerful blast knocked the coffee machine to the ground. Rico and Private slid out of their bunks, bleary-eyed and exhausted. They followed Skipper into the lab.

"Kowalski, what in the name of pickled…fish and chips, soldier! What is wrong with your face?" Kowalski's bloodshot eyes twitched, and he removed his goggles, exposing the only feathers that had not been victim to colorful explosions. The corners of his beak sagged with fatigue.

"Nothing to worry about…Skipper," he said haltingly, as he stifled a yawn, "I was j-just working on my newest experi-experiment."

"Kowalski, have you been up all night?" Private asked.

"Well, in America, yes. But in Indian time zones…okay, yeah, I've been up all night." Kowalski relented. Rico and Skipper exchanged a look. Rico hacked up a mallet and mimed hitting Kowalski on the head.

"Wait!" Kowalski said, grabbing the mallet and prevented Rico from doing any actual damage, "I haven't shown you the device yet!"

"Kowalski, we know all we need to about your experiments," Skipper said, "They go horribly wrong and threaten the entire world. That being said, let's see the creation before we send it to experiment Hell where it belongs."

"Behold," Kowalski stated dramatically, "The 'Awesome-Tron 8000'!" He pulled out what looked like a small ballpoint pen.

Private started to giggle. "The 'Awesome-Tron 8000'?" he chuckled, "That's the silliest name I've ever…I mean, tell us about it?" he added quickly, seeing Kowalski's face.

"It turns boring TV shows into awesome ones!" Kowalski exclaimed.

"Aren't your experiments usually a little more serious? You know, ground-breaking discoveries and whatnot?" Skipper asked.

"I can be selfish too, alright?" Kowalski snapped, "But wait 'till you see it in action! Private, are the Lunacorns on?"

Private shuffled his feet. "Gosh, Kowalski, I'd love to put my favorite characters up for experimentation, but –"

"Goddit!" Rico shouted from the next room. He jumped up and down and pointed excitedly at the pink Lunacorn on the TV.

"Perfect!" Kowalski said. He aimed the pen at the screen and pressed down on the plunger. ZZZAAAP! A jet of green light shot out of the end and hit the TV. Instantly, the Lunacorn was carrying a rifle and engaging in a high speed chase with a dozen police cars.

"Woooooohoooo!" Rico cheered and knocked Private out of the way to get a closer look at the action.

"It works! I can't believe it! It actually…I mean, yeah duh, of course it worked." Kowalski said.

"Skipper, make him bring my Lunacorns back!" Private begged, "You hate all of Kowalski's crackpot inventions!"

"No can do, young Private," Skipper said, "If it gets that G-rated hippie junk out of our HQ, I'm all for it! Ooh, and do I have plans for NBC Nightly News!"

"But Skipper –" Private began. Skipper interrupted: "Now Private, I'm the leader of this unit, and what I say goes. Do I make myself clear?"

Private sighed, "Yes, Skipper."

Skipper smiled, "Wonderful. Now, let's channel surf!"

"All right!" Rico shouted. The penguins spent the rest of the day with their eyes trained on the increasingly interesting images on the screen. Except Private. He was sent topside to entertain the humans.

_'It's just not fair,_' Private thought as he jumped across the concrete island, _'I always get stuck with the boring jobs, I always get pushed around, I'm always just little cute and naïve Private!_' As he kicked a stray pebble, a loud shout came from the HQ.

"Rico! Would you look at this? Hah! Look at those hippies getting the hose!" Private gritted his beak in frustration. He didn't find it funny one bit that Skipper was enjoying himself while he, Private, was stuck with this mundane job. Private couldn't help it if he loved Lunacorns more than violence. It was just the way he was.

"I think I liked Kowalski's inventions better when they threatened the world," he grumbled. At closing time, Private returned to the HQ, and felt a cruel sort of jubilation at seeing his comrades with eyes as red as Kowalski's had been after his all-nighter.

"Skipper," Kowalski muttered without taking his eyes off the screen, "Change the channel."

"I changed it last time; it's Rico's turn."

"No way!" was the indignant response.

"Um, guys," Private ventured timidly, "Don't you think there's such a thing as too much of the telly?"

"Shhh-shhh-shhh!" Skipper commanded, "America's Next Top Models are fist-fighting!"

"Skipper –"

"Leave us alone, Private!" Skipper said, "We don't want you here now!"

Private decided to go draw some pictures in the park to calm him down. He wasn't as good as Rico, but drawing did sometimes ease his mind when he was troubled. Which he was after what happened. Private kept hearing Skipper's words in his mind. What was he, some annoying little brother, interfering with their fun? They weren't doing anything productive; Private was the one actually working. '_That's how it always is. I get stuck with the hard or dangerous work, and I get blamed for mistakes!'_ Well, deep in his heart, he knew that the mistakes were still his fault. Private just wasn't as experienced as the others. That didn't make it right for them to talk down to him like…like a chick! Just once he wished he could talk down to them!

The idea made him laugh out loud. Little, naïve Private intimidating Skipper? Why, he couldn't even tell them to turn off the TV! Private laughed bitterly again.

"Hey! Would you be shutting it up with the laughter?" A voice rang out, causing Private to drop his pen, "I am trying to be enjoying the royal nap before the booty shaking tonight!" King Julian poked his head over the wall of his habitat, looking extremely agitated.

"Sorry, King Julian," Private said, "Just lost in thought, I guess."

"Yah, well, be going away now!" He disappeared over the wall. Private sighed and leaned over to pick up his pen. To his dismay, he realized that it had fallen down a slightly-ajar manhole. Not willing to undergo a sewer expedition, Private returned to his habitat to get a new one. He didn't want the others to think that he was crawling back with his tail between his legs, so Private used an escape tunnel that brought him just outside Kowalski's lab. The three penguins didn't even notice him; they were so busy with the TV. Private grinned and thought that maybe, if he had the nerve, he could sneak up behind them and startle his teammates. But of course, Skipper would slap him into orbit. He sighed and waddled across the HQ.

Private grabbed the pencil holder on the table and rooted around inside it for a pen that Rico had never held in his belly. He didn't like to mention it around the others, but he was never really comfortable with the whole stomach acid thing. A loud explosion from the TV made Private jump, causing him to overturn the pencil holder. The pens inside the cup flew out and landed with a clatter on the floor. He flinched, waiting for the other penguins to turn around and discover him, but they were hooting at the carnage on the screen and didn't notice him. Private sighed in relief and knelt on the floor, picking up all the pens, and taking special care with one near Kowalski's foot. When at last they were all in the jar, Private tested one on a blank sheet of paper. It didn't write.

"C'mon!" Private hissed. He held the point close to his eyes, and pressed the back repeatedly, "Why won't you –?" ZZZAAAP! The burst of green light hit Private squarely in the face, knocking him to the ground.

"What the?" Skipper jumped to his feet, shaking his head vigorously to rid himself of the TV haze. Rico and Kowalski rose unsteadily. They surrounded Private who appeared to be unconscious.

"Wakey wakey, Princess," Skipper said, "You've got some explaining to do!" Private's toe twitched a little, but that was all. Skipper frowned and slapped him across the beak smartly. Immediately, Private's eyes shot open. In less time than it would take to write a comparative statement, Private had Skipper pinned against the wall of their HQ.

"Touch me again, and I'll make sure the only thing you're slapping is six feet of dirt!" Private shouted.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

Here's chapter two! Thank you so much to all of you awesome reviewers! Your comments made my day! After all, what is a writer if no one comments on their work? A very sad, review-less writer, I guess! Enjoy this next chapter!

"Private! What are you doing soldier?" Skipper strained against Private's flippers, but he couldn't free himself, "Release your commanding officer immediately!"

"Can't do that, Skipper," Private's voice seemed to be about an octave lower, "What, did you think that I was just going to take that slap?"

"Uh, well, kind of, yeah," Skipper replied.

"Think again! I'm sick and tired of you always tossing me around like some little girl's doll! Now you're going to promise to treat me as an equal from now on, or my flippers move up to that thick neck of yours!" Skipper seemed momentarily stunned. Over Private's shoulder, he could see Kowalski and Rico with their beaks gaping and eyes as round as silver dollars.

"Uh, ok, Private. Take it easy. We don't want anyone to get hurt."

"Promise!"

"All right, all right, already. I promise." Private let him go, but as soon as his flippers went down, Skipper's foot went up to kick him in the chest. Private fell to the ground, and in a moment Skipper was on him, the two rolling, punching, and kicking each other. Kowalski and Rico tried stop the fight, but in the end, neither had the guts to go sticking their flippers into that mess.

"What has gotten into you?" Skipper shouted finally shouted, when it became apparent that Private wasn't going to give in without a fight. Private didn't say anything, but he stood up, brushed off his feathers, and glared at Skipper.

"Let's make one thing perfectly clear," Private said through a gritted beak, "You may be my commanding officer. But you are under no circumstances my leader." And without giving Skipper a chance to respond, he left the HQ.

Skipper turned to Kowalski and Rico: "Kowalski now would be an excellent time for an analysis." Kowalski bent over and picked up the pen Private was using.

"It would appear that Private, thinking my Awesome-Tron was a pen, accidently shot himself with it."

"Kowalski!" Skipper said, "You made an invention that looks like a pen? Didn't you learn anything from the whole truth serum incident?"

"Scientists never learn from their mistakes; just as Marie Curie," Kowalski said, "The point is, that the blast from my invention gave Private more courage and power. Possibly even better physical strength. Huh. I never even thought about the penguin possibilities of the Awesome-Tron 8000. I might have even –" Skipper slapped Kowalski.

"Focus, soldier! How do we bring the old Private back?" Skipper said. Kowalski flipped through his clipboard.

"Well, I could think of another invention to reverse the effects of the Awesome-Tron, but it could take a few weeks," Kowalski said.

"Weeks?" Rico asked.

"We need solutions now!" Skipper said.

"Until either of you come up with something, science is all we've got!" Kowalski said, "So…I don't know, deal with Private while I work on a new invention!"

Skipper didn't necessarily like this plan, but it was better than nothing. He would just have to assert his dominance over Private. _It shouldn't be hard_, Skipper thought smugly, _I've done it plenty of times before_.

He had no idea how hard it would be. When Private returned, he wasn't speaking to anyone. The other penguins tried their best to keep out of his way, but they couldn't help but notice when he took a flamethrower to his Lunacorn doll.

"Stupid, worthless thing," he muttered, "Can't believe I ever liked that stuff." Skipper, Rico, and Kowalski exchanged looks out of the corner of their eyes.

Private volunteered for nighttime surveillance that night before Skipper had even asked. He even stayed out later than necessary. Kowalski and Rico were fast asleep by the time Private returned, but Skipper couldn't sleep a wink. He paced the HQ and drank coffee until the hatch opened. Private stepped down the ladder and smirked at Skipper.

"Should've told you not to stay up, _Mum_." Skipper was too shocked to even think of a comeback.

The next morning, despite his fatigue, Skipper began training as usual. He needed to make up for all the time the team had lost during the previous day's TV marathon. Not like anyone wanted to go near the thing anymore.

"Alright, men, let's go for a little five lap run around the zoo," Skipper announced. Kowalski and Rico groaned. "Just for that, I'm making it seven. On your mark, get set, GO!" Skipper leaped into the water of their habitat and vaulted himself over the fence. Kowalski and Rico followed, but Private stayed behind, swinging his flippers.

"What's the matter, Private? Too much for you?" Skipper screamed over his shoulder. He looked angry, but inside, he was overjoyed that Private finally seemed to be returning to normal.

Unfortunately, this was not the case. "This baby jog?" Private said almost lazily, "I'm just giving the rest of you a head start." Skipper was now as upset inside as he was outside.

"Fine!" Skipper said. He was well ahead of Kowalski and Rico, but he sped up just to show off a little. A minute later, a black and white blur shot past him. It was Private!

"You've got to pace yourself!" Skipper screamed, "You're not going to be able to maintain that kind of speed!" Private didn't even bother to respond.

By lap six, Skipper was panting. Kowalski had given up ten minutes ago, and was just walking. Rico was still jogging, but he was still a few yards behind Skipper. Skipper kept thinking that any moment, he would pass Private, but the other penguin was too far ahead and obviously going strong. One lap later, Skipper and Rico made it back to their habitat. Unbelievably, Private was on the platform, stretching again. He stopped as Rico and Skipper approached him.

"What happened, ladies, stopped for a pedicure?" Private mocked. Involuntarily, Skipper reached up to slap him. But Private caught his flipper and somehow managed to flip Skipper upside-down and shove him into the pool.

Skipper gasped as his beak hit the surface of the water and inadvertantly inhaled what felt like a few gallons. When he surfaced he coughed a few times and leapt onto the island where Private was smirking.

"I don't care what Kowalski's invention did to you, Private, but this behavior is insubordination, and I will not tolerate it in my unit!" Skipper said.

"Kowalski's invention? Kowalski? You think some egghead inventor could do this to me?" Private asked.

"Well then, who did?" Skipper said impatiently. Private leaned his head in very close to Skipper's.

"You did, Skipper," he whispered. Skipper's eyes widened. Rico started on Private, but he held up his flipper.

"Cool it, Rico. This is between me and this so-called leader." Private said. Something snapped inside Skipper's mind. You could insult him, question his strength or masculinity, but no one, and I mean no one, doubted his authority as a leader.

"You think you could do a better job, Private?" Skipper shouted, "You think you'd make a better leader than me? Huh? Do you? I was leading this unit when you were still a chick!"

"Maybe it's time for some new blood then!" Private said in that calm tone that was so disconcerting to Skipper.

"Fine!" Skipper roared, "Let's just see exactly what kind of a leader you are!" The two glared at each other for so long, one would expect them to burst into flames under the intense stare.

"Hey," Kowalski panted, finally entering the habitat, "Uh, did I come at a bad time?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

It was night once again at the Central Park Zoo. The animals had all met up at the Zoovenir shop, some of them restless; others acting as though they were at a sporting match, collecting bets and such. Then there was Marlene.

"Guys, come on, is this really necessary?" she said, "Can't you just get along?"

"Negative, Marlene," Skipper responded. He was perched on a barrel of stuffed animals and glaring at Private, who was standing on a high shelf, "If Private wants a fight, he'll get a fight. I'm not scared, and I'm certainly not standing down. Hear that, Private? A true leader never stands down!" Marlene shook her head.

"Men." she mumbled.

"Oh, don't be like that, lady," Private said, "If this pompous has-been thinks he's just going to get away with being a tyrant, then I'm going to show him what a real leader's like."

"I know what a real leader's like, Private," Skipper growled, "Because I see him every day in the mirror."

"Really? I'm surprised you can see anything under all that ugly." Private taunted.

"Oooooooooooooooooooooooo." The zoo animals jeered.

"Quiet please. Quiet," Mason said, "We still need to write up the contract."

"Contract?" Private cried, "What do we need a bloody contract for?"

"We need to document the reason for the competition of course, and the rules, and the prize. Will there be one?" Mason said.

"Primate, the only prize is honor and respect," Skipper said.

"And complete leadership of the penguin unit," Private said quietly.

"Yes and…wait a minute, WHAT?" Kowalski shouted, "Skipper, this was just for fun; you didn't agree to those term –" Skipper cut him off: "Not to worry, Kowalski. I don't intend on losing. Just going to prove a very painful point to this insubordinate marshmallow."

"But, if you do fail…"

"Kowalski, in all my years as your commanding officer, have you ever known me to fail? I will not, repeat, will NOT desert this unit." Private looked almost bored.

"Yes, yes, we all love Skipper's pretty little talk," he said, "Now let's move this along, chimps. I don't want to be late starting training with my men tomorrow." Skipper didn't rise to the bait.

"All right then," Mason said cautiously. Like the other animals, he was perplexed by Private's transformation. "The competition will consist of three challenges: One in physical strength, another in knowledge of the team, and lastly in the overall ability to lead. The judges will be Marlene, Burt, and," he sighed, "Since he insisted, King Julien." The lemur jumped up and down. "Yes! I will be de judge for de thingy! Because, you know, who is more suited to do the judging than de king!"

"No one." Maurice grumbled.

"Erm, yes," Mason "So, Private and Skipper: Do either of you have any questions?" Private smoothed down a few feathers on his flipper.

"Fair enough," He shrugged, "I'll sign."

"Now Private," Skipper said firmly, "We don't have to do this. Just apologize and then we can just wait until you cool down a little, and see where that leads us. None of us want to see you humiliate yourself." Wizz! A pencil flew through the air right at his face. Skipper ducked, and it embedded itself in the wall where his head had been a moment before. Skipper stared it, and then at Private's glowering face for a moment. Finally he nodded, "Have it your way. Hand me the document, simian, I'm ready to sign."

An hour later, the zoo animals were gathered at the fountain. Private and Skipper were both doing some last minute stretches. Private was all alone, but Rico and Kowalski surrounded Skipper while he touched his toes.

"You know, Skipper," Kowalski began, "I can't help but feel, in some small way, responsible for all of this." Skipper rolled his eyes.

"Noooooo, Kowalski, none of this was your fault."

"I'm glad you see it this way." Kowalski said.

"Sarcasm." Rico grunted.

"It doesn't matter," Kowalski said, "You'll win this for sure, Skipper! I…I've never gotten a chance to say this before, but I…I –"

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" Mason yelled, "We are almost ready to start the first round. Do the judges have anything to say before we begin?" Marlene stood up.

"I'd just like to say, I hope that Private and Skipper remember that everyone is equally important in a team, and that friendship is the greatest prize one can receive."

"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" Burt and Julien chanted. Marlene sighed.

"All right then," Mason said, "First competition: The penguin that can perform the most push-ups will be awarded 25 points. Are you ready, Skipper?"

"I'm always ready," Skipper said.

"And you, Private?" Mason asked.

"Ready," Private said, then, under his breath, "To beat Skipper's feathered butt."

"Go!" Skipper and Private dropped to their stomachs and used their flippers to raise their bodies 20, 40, 60 times. Skipper smirked and kept tossing insults out at Private, who was suspiciously silent. When he began to feel short of breath, Skipper realized that Private probably had the right idea conserving his air.

After push-up number 106, the zoo animals got bored. Several left, and a few of those remaining fell asleep. Skipper couldn't even acknowledge this, as he was sweating more than he had in his memory. His abdomen was clutched in an iron fist, and his flippers were vibrating like an electric toothbrush. He decided to risk attempting to throw Private off one more time.

"Getting…getting tired, Private?" he panted. Private smiled, and Skipper was amazed to see that, unlike himself, Private looked completely comfortable. "Not on your life."

A few minutes later, the air completely left Skipper's body. He slumped to the pavement and wheezed for a while, not getting enough oxygen into his lungs. His vision doubled, and he saw not one, but two Privates do a few more pushups just to show off, and then rise, smirking.

Kowalski and Rico each grabbed one of Skipper's flippers and pulled him to his feet. Kowalski opened his mouth as if to reassure his commanding officer. But no words came. Rico didn't even bother, and just gave Skipper a pat on the back. Skipper could only reflect on the fact that, for the first time in his life, he had really failed his men.

Mason announced Private's victory, but reminded him not to get too cocky, because there were two more competitions to complete. "We are now moving on to the next round. If someone would please wake Burt, we will proceed."

Soon, they were all crowding the penguins' HQ, some of the larger animals listening in at the entrance. Private and Skipper were sitting at the table with small buzzers in front of them.

"Now, we begin the second round," Mason said, "With Private currently leading by 25 points. Our judges will ask Private and Skipper questions about the team, and allot points based on the difficulty of the question." Skipper smiled, though he wasn't as confident as he had been before the first challenge. He knew his team better than anyone, but – his stomach squirmed unpleasantly – Private had always been the considerate one. If Skipper had had a problem he couldn't solve (which rarely happened), he would've gone to Private for advice. _What secrets does Private know that I don't?_ Skipper thought. He shook his head slightly. _Focus, Skipper! You can do this. Your team is counting on you._ He saw Rico give him a sympathetic smile, but on Rico's beak, it look grotesque. Oh, well. It's the thought that counts.

"Marlene, would you like to ask the first question?" Mason said. Marlene nodded and selected a card from a cardboard box. Since none of the animals save Phil could read, the cards had pictures of the question instead of words.

"All right, this question's for 10 points. 'What is the maximum amount of supplies that can fit in Rico at a time'?" Skipper slammed his flipper down on the buzzer.

"He can fit up to 43 pounds in there, plus 38 ounces of fish."

Marlene smiled, "That's correct…and kinda gross."

"My turn!" Burt yelled from the fishbowl entrance. He used his trunk to grab a card, "Ooh, a hard one! I'll give this away for twenty! Ok, 'Which one of these movies do the penguins own: Planet of the Apes, Frankenstein, Star Wars, or Mean Girls?'"

Private hit the buzzer, "We own both Frankenstein and Mean Girls." Skipper laughed. "Where would you get an idea like that? Us, owning that silly movie!" Private just smirked. "Check under Kowalski's pillow."

In the end, Private took the twenty points, and Kowalski took a hard slap to the cheek. The competition went on like this, back and forth for almost an hour. Skipper got a few right, Private got a few right, and even King Julien bounced up and down and shouted an answer now and then. His answers were usually incorrect, but the penguins each received point after point after point. Finally Mason held up his hand, "All right, we are down to the last question. The current score is," the animals held their breaths, "Skipper with 87 points and Private with 80."

Rico cheered, "Ah right, Skippa!" Kowalski just mumbled "Nice going", and rubbed his sore cheek.

"This final question will go for thirty points, so it's still anyone's game. The penguin who answers correctly will win this round," Mason continued, "King Julien, the question, if you please."

"Okay," Julien said, "'De penguins moved to their habitat six years ago. What was the first ting dey built in de secret underground-y place?'" Next to him, Skipper saw Private freeze. How would he know this? He wasn't even part of the unit six years ago! Part of Skipper wanted to tell Mason to stop the round. To let it end in a tie. This wasn't a fair game! But then there was his team. How could he let them down? They knew how he felt about this question, he could see it in their eyes. Maybe they even felt the same way. But they knew, and Skipper knew, that even if the old Private would have immediatly refused to answer, this new Private wouldn't hesitate a second before hitting below the belt. Skipper's resolve hardened and he pressed the buzzer.

"We built the bathroom first." Skipper said.

"Right!" King Julien shouted. Skipper smiled. He had won! Suddenly, he felt a force push him to the floor. Private's face slid into his view, his eyes slits.

"You may have won this round," Private hissed, "But you're not the leader yet. Not by a long shot. We're tied now, you and me. And if you think I'm just going to let this next challenge slip by me…" he chuckled coldly, "You are very much mistaken."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A part of Skipper was sorely tempted to spit in Private's face. He had done this once before, when Hans had him pinned him like this. That had worked out great. But Skipper restrained himself in the interest of good sportsmanship. He would be lying if he said that he wasn't feeling cocky after that last round. So what if he wasn't physically superior to Private anymore? That was only Kowalski's invention. The ability to lead? Now that was something you were born with.

So instead of spitting, Skipper just shoved Private off him and asked Mason if they were ready to start the next round.

"The next challenge will begin in half an hour," Mason replied, "That will give us enough time to set up."

"Set up what, exactly?" Private asked, still glaring fiercely at Skipper.

"Two obstacle courses, each on opposite ends of the zoo. Each competitor will have to guide Rico and Kowalski through in the shortest amount of time with the fewest injuries."

"Wait a minute," Kowalski interjected, "Why are we being dragged into th –?" Rico punched him in the flipper.

"Ok, I accept," said Skipper tentatively, "Now what will be causing these…uh…injuries?"

"We have taken the liberty of removing many explosives and weapons from your HQ." Mason answered, not at all aware of the outrage displayed on Rico's face. "They will be placed inside the obstacle course to add a little extra…excitement." Skipper was calmer now, knowing that his knowledge of the penguins' weapons was much more extensive than Private's. The other penguin, however, appeared just as relaxed.

"I'll be going first." Private said. It was a statement; not a question.

"Why not?" said Mason, "But remember both of you: This is the defining moment of this competition. The winner of this challenge will be the leader of the penguin unit. It's still anyone's game."

Private smirked and rolled his eyes, "Yeah. Right. Now, get over here, you two!" he said, gesturing toward Kowalski and Rico, "Let's talk strategy!"

Kowalski looked at Skipper in askance. The leader shrugged, "Do whatever you want." Despite this, as he watched Kowalski waddle reluctantly into a huddle with Private and Rico, Skipper felt an intense pain in his chest, and he inhaled sharply. It looked wrong, like a piece of artwork that had been scribbled on by a toddler. A team huddle, without the Skipper. It suddenly struck Skipper that, should he lose, he would never be "the Skipper" again. It would become his name, not his position. Who was he, if not the leader? It was a scary thought, but he composed himself. 'I'm going to win' he reassured himself, 'Then Kowalski will fix up Private and it will all be…normal again. Just think. Think and plan. That's all you can do.'

Thinking or planning was incredibly difficult to do while King Julien was yammering in his ear. Private had been in the obstacle course with Kowalski and Rico for only a short time. Skipper knew that each minute was precious, each minute another that he had to beat. It was a stressful experience, made even more so by his proximity to Julien, who seemed in an even chattier mood than usual.

"So, Skipper," Julien began, sipping a smoothie. They were seated in his habitat, as far from Private's obstacle course as possible to ensure that there would be no cheating. Julien was supposed to be there to make sure Skipper wasn't training or hiding weapons, but so far, he had only annoyed the living daylights out of him. "So…" Julien repeated, "If Private wins this competition, he becomes the leader, right?" Skipper didn't bother answering.

"Huh? Huh? Right? Huh?" Julien needled him.

"Shut up, Ringtail."

"Oh, I get it; you are wanting me to be quiet, no?" Julien said, nodding his head, "I can be shutting up whenever I want!"

'Doubt that.' Skipper thought. But all he said was, "Good." But of course, it wasn't long until Julien spoke again.

"So…I have another question…"

"Come on man! What part of 'shut up' don't you understand?"

"It's just one more question, I promise!"

Skipper sighed. "One question…but then no more talking!" Just then, there was a loud explosion, followed by a scream. Kowalski? Rico? Not Private. Definitely not Private. It surprised Skipper how sure he was of the sound of Private's scream. He hadn't been paying attention on purpose. Whoever it belonged to, the scream – as well as the explosion – was just another reminder that Skipper was about to go on a dangerous mission. Julien of course, was oblivious as always.

"My question is," Julien continued, "What is the deal with the cute guy? Private? You know…" Julien gestured to his head.

"What do you think, Ringtail?" Skipper said, irritated, "One of Kowalski's inventions went wrong…again!"

"Oh," Julien said. He looked like he was thinking, which was a rare expression to cross his face, "I would not have guessed that." Skipper turned his head toward Julien swiftly.

"And why not?"

"Well, it's just cause…you know…you're always slapping him around all the time," Julien explained, "If dat were me, I would have tried to de-throne you too! Except that you do not have a throne because you are not the king." There were a million ways Skipper could have responded to that; a million comebacks, insults, witty remarks. Instead, he said nothing. Not an 'I'm ignoring you' kind of nothing. The kind that indicates that the other person has won.

And Skipper suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Private's actions weren't justified, were they? Was he, Skipper, at fault? Skipper shook his head to clear it. This was not the time to think of this. His entire team was counting on him to win this next challenge. From across the zoo, there were loud cheers and clapping. Skipper took this as a sign that they had made it through the obstacle course, and it would soon be his turn. Someone – Marlene? – shouted "Five minutes!" Skipper mulled this over. Five minutes. He shrugged. He could probably beat that.

Moments later, Mason, Private, Rico, and Kowalski came to fetch Skipper from Julien's habitat. Rico and Kowalski looked shell-shocked and were covered in soot, but Private was relatively clean and looked like he'd just been crowned King of the World.

"You're up," Private said in a singsong voice, "Good luck." Skipper opened his beak to give a smart retort, but closed in again, thinking of a better one.

"Have fun with Ringtail, Private!" As Skipper waddled away with Mason and the rest of his team, he couldn't help chuckling a little. It gave him some satisfaction.

Skipper's obstacle course hidden by a large sheet, a penguin-sized hole providing the only insight to the dangers within. It was pretty much just black in there. The course was right next to Marlene's habitat, and as Skipper prepared his men with some last-minute drills and exercises, Marlene kept up a steady stream of begging for them not to blow up her home.

"I mean, I know you don't really have a choice or anything, but like, if Rico needs to regurgitate something, can it be a sword or a baseball bat or something? Does it always have to be, you know, bombs with you guys?" Skipper told her that he would do his best, all the while thinking that as much as he liked Marlene, too much destruction was the last thing on his mind. For some reason, no matter what sort of damage his team created, it was usually gone by the next week.

In no time at all, it was time to start. Skipper, Rico, and Kowalski got down on one knee at the entrance to the obstacle course, poised to run at a second's notice.

"Now remember all of you," Mason said authoritatively, "Keep this a fair contest. I don't want any cheating.

"But remember," he continued, "This final challenge will determine the winner of the contest as well as the new leader of the penguins." Skipper had stopped counting the number of times this fact had been shoved in his face.

"Are you ready?" said Mason. Skipper nodded at his men, who returned the gesture. They looked nervous.

"Set!" This is it, Skipper told himself.

"Go!" Skipper, Rico, and Kowalski plunged single-file through the hole, but stopped as soon as they had passed the sheet to survey the situation. There wasn't much to see. It was still pitch-black.

"Rico! Flashlights!" Skipper ordered. There was a yurk sound to his right and the flashlight landed in his palm, already spreading its beam of light around the area. Nothing. Just the zoo, looking normal as ever. No ropes to climb, no pits of venomous snakes to avoid, no weapons of mass destruction to be deactivated. Nothing.

"Kowalski? Was it like this in Private's course?" Skipper asked.

"No," said Kowalski, looking equally perplexed, "There was a minefield just about now." All three of them looked toward the ground skeptically.

"Rico!" Skipper said, "Pebbles!" Rico launched several small stones onto the ground in front of them and they braced themselves for an explosion. Instead there was only silence.

"So, we've ruled out a minefield," Skipper said, "Kowalski, give me some other options."

"Uh…Skipper?" Kowalski said carefully, "They, uh, they took my options clipboard. They wanted to make sure that it was your leadership guiding us through, not my options. Not that I think that!" he added hastily.

"Right," Skipper said, like he'd known this all along, "Keep moving men. But slowly…and look around you…make sure we don't have any nasty surprises." Rico took the lead so Skipper could watch their backs.

They had only been inching forward for a few seconds when Skipper's flashlight beam hit upon a thin reflective surface near the ground. Skipper realized what it was a split second before Rico's foot hit the tripwire.

"Hit the deck!" he cried, and the three penguins fell to the ground as the battering ram swung out of the darkness and whipped the backs of their necks teasingly. Then nothing.

"Okay," said Skipper slowly, straightening up apprehensively, "How're you boys doing?" They didn't answer, but stood up as well. "Good. Let's keep moving." Skipper said, "More carefully, now, if you please?" he added testily. They had barely been walking for 10 seconds when rocket launchers positioned on the sides of the obstacle course shot explosives around them. Through complex evasive maneuvers, they made it through alright, despite the attack lasting a full minute. It wasn't much worse than what they had experience during their training sessions. Skipper was confident that he had this competition in the bag.

When the penguins had crossed a small minefield which they swept in less than a minute's time, they came to a high wooden wall, hastily constructed, with nails sticking out here and there. Skipper looked on either side of the wall and found that there was enough space for them to walk through between the right side of the wall and the red line that indicated the obstacle course boundary. But it was too perfect, too easy, and Skipper knew that, if they were to pass through the sides, they'd get some sort of attack launched at them. He realized that their only choice would be to climb the side of the wall.

"Rico, grappling hook," Skipper ordered. Rico regurgitated the tool, and Skipper shot the hook to the top of the wall, trailing a cable behind it. He gave it a sharp tug to see if it would hold, and there was suddenly a loud CRACK. The grappling hook clattered to the ground at Skipper's feet, with several pieces of wood attached to the spikes.

"The wall…isn't that stable, Skipper." Kowalski said. Skipper rolled his eyes.

"Really? I had no idea." Skipper scanned the wall, trying to figure out a way up. Then he noticed the nails. The loose ones, that stuck out a few inches here and there. But they were in odd places. It was clear the wall was made out of several thin panels nailed together, but some of the nails…were not on the seams of the panels. They were meant as footholds.

"Well, it looks like we're doing this the old fashioned way, men!" he said. Placing one flipper up on a nail about an inch above his head, he pulled his feet up onto another one, grinning. Rico and Kowalski followed him, and the three of them climbed swiftly. They were nearly halfway to the top when Skipper stopped suddenly. The smile dropped from his beak. Was that…a grinding sound he heard?

'Not again' he thought. His second thought was for his team. "Stop!" he shouted. But Rico and Kowalski were almost to the top of the wall before they stopped.

"Wha?" Rico asked. Then he saw the spikes.

Directly under the wall, three rows of five inch long razor-sharp points, gleaming maliciously in the moonlight. Probably another three rows on the other side of the wall too. They were trapped.

"What's your plan Skipper?" Kowalski said in a panic.

"Don't have one!" Skipper replied.

"What?" Kowalski shouted.

"Look, just hang on, alright? I'm working on it!" Skipper said exasperatedly. He looked to the top of the wall. It was hard to see because of its height but, yes, the wall was thick enough for them to stand on the top of it they were careful. Then they could launch themselves off the other side past the spikes.

"I have a plan!" Skipper announced. After he'd explained, he added, "Keep climbing and don't look down." He shouldn't have said that. Whenever someone says 'Don't look down', that's the first thing they do. Kowalski glanced down and shrieked.

"Keep going!" Skipper roared. He was still below Kowalski, but gaining on him. Skipper swung easily from one nail to another, "Just keep moving!" But Kowalski was frozen to the wall. There was a creaking sound, and Skipper shone his flashlight beam onto the source of the sound: Kowalski's feet. With horror, he realized that the nail he was standing on was beginning to bend. Kowalski realized it too and stared desperately at Skipper's face. "Skip –"

The nail gave way. Kowalski became a black blur as he fell to the ground. Skipper reached out his flipper, but he was too slow, too slow! Skipper cringed as Kowalski screamed.

"Kowalski!" Skipper shouted. There was a pause. Skipper didn't dare open his eyes.

"I'm ok!" Skipper could have laughed with relief. Kowalski was lying just an inch past the spikes, but Skipper's flashlight revealed that there was some blood on both his back and two spikes. He must have grazed them when he fell.

"I'll be right down!" Skipper promised. "Rico? Uh…mattress?" He wasn't totally sure Rico had it in him (literally), but sure enough, from above a mattress fell on top of the spikes, cushioning them. 'Why didn't I think of this before?' Skipper thought as he launched himself off the wall. He bounced easily off the soft surface and landed next to Kowalski.

"Oh, ok, you're fine. This is just a little scratch," Skipper said in relief, examining his comrade's wound, "We'll patch you up when we get back to HQ. I think we've still got some Band-Aids left from the last time something in your lab exploded. 'Course they're probably the Hello Kitty™ kind. Now, c'mon, we still need to climb the wall." Skipper had only walked a few paces when he realized Kowalski wasn't coming along with him.

"Come on!" he demanded.

"Just give me a moment…to catch my breath." Skipper tapped his foot impatiently and looked up at the clock-tower. Three o' clock. When did they start the course? Skipper hadn't checked.

"Move!" Skipper hissed at Kowalski, "Move!" Kowalski shot him a puzzled look, but slowly, painstakingly, stood up and gingerly climbed onto the mattress, and then the wall. Skipper felt guilty that he had snapped like that, and resolved to apologize to him the minute they had announced his victory. Speaking of which...

"Don't stop climbing, men!" he ordered sternly. The mattress was enough to quell their fear of heights as well as their fear of impalement, and they quickly pulled themselves to the top of the wall. While Kowalski massaged and probed his stinging back, Rico regurgitated another mattress to cover the spikes on the other side.

"Jump!" Skipper commanded. The mattress squealed as the weight of three penguins hit it, but it held up, and none of the spikes popped through. They could now see the finish line. It wasn't hard to spot since apparently, no one on the design staff was very creative. The end was simply a large banner with the word "Finnish" on it. The spelling didn't really matter, as none of them could read, but they knew what it said. On the other side were the zoo animals, squinting in at them in the darkness.

"Almost there, boys. How you holding out, Kowalski?" Skipper asked.

"Fine Skipper," Kowalski said earnestly, "Let's move!" He was about to belly slide when Skipper lifted a flipper.

"How's about we watch where we step, eh Kowalski? Wouldn't want anyone else getting hurt, now would we?" he said with a grin. Rico launched a few pebbles into the air, and they were rewarded with jets of fire shooting out at them from every angle.

"Evasives!" The team slid and jumped through the flames. It was pretty hot, and a few of Skipper's feathers were scorched, but all in all, they made it out okay. They crossed the finish line less than 30 seconds after spotting it. Skipper exchanged a few high fives with his men, but his heart wasn't really in it. In fact, Skipper felt like his heart had abandoned his chest entirely and was now content to beat loudly in his throat. He kept waiting for someone to call out his time, to tell him that he'd won. Then Julien entered the circle of zoo animals with Private, still smiling smugly, without the slightest hint of anxiety. 'He won't be smiling for long,' Skipper thought.

Mason cleared his throat. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to take this opportunity to thank the competitors of this challenge. This has certainly been an exciting opportunity for us all –"

"Get to the point!" Private yelled impatiently, sparking giggles from the gorillas. Skipper secretly agreed with him. Kowalski and Rico gave Skipper some weak smiles, and Rico tried to give him a thumbs-up. As it could have just as easily been a middle finger, it didn't really do much to comfort Skipper.

"Oh. All right then," Mason said, slightly taken aback, "Without further ado, the winner of the competition and the leader of the penguin unit is…"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Skipper felt like a sullen child, lying on his back in his bunk, staring at the concrete ceiling. His flippers were crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed in anger. A part of him felt a little silly but the rest thought he deserved a little sulking.

When Mason had called out Private's name, Skipper felt like the world had been ripped out from underneath him, leaving him falling, falling, falling into a deep pit. His vision swum in front of him, and he was concerned he would faint. And wouldn't that be something? Oh, Private would have had a good laugh about that, wouldn't he? Private. He was now Skipper's commanding officer. There were certainly more laughs and taunts on the way. Private wouldn't let him forget the story of when old Skipper had tried and failed to cling to his leadership. No one in his unit would ever respect him the same way again, surely. He wasn't the leader anymore. He wasn't the leader.

Those words kept ringing in his head. Over and over again, like a bizarre, cult-like chant. Skipper squeezed his eyes tightly closed, as if that could drown out those horrible words. But it didn't help. The truth wasn't written on the ceiling after all.

Skipper was alone in the HQ now. After his victory, Private had announced a special celebration in honor of his triumph. Julien threw it, obviously, not wanting to miss out on any sort of party. As far as Skipper knew, the only animals who didn't attend were Marlene and Leonard, the latter wanting to stay as far away from any penguin-related events as possible and Skipper hoped the former had declined for his sake. But other animals that had seemed like good friends of Skipper's now seemed to be closer to Private. Is that just because he was the winner? Or did Private just have more allies, from years of being the friendliest animal in the zoo? Skipper couldn't say. But he resented Rico and Kowalski for going along with Private. They were at the party now too. Not of their own free will, because they seemed to be still loyal to Skipper, but because Private had ordered them. He was their commanding officer now, after all. There was little they could do about it. Private allowed Skipper to go back to HQ, saying that he needed rest in a painfully condescending manner. Skipper almost wanted to refuse, but he really did want to be alone.

So here he was. Every now and then, some music and chatter would drift in from the locked hatch. Skipper's temple throbbed. Private had only beaten him in the obstacle course by two minutes. Was that really enough to determine leadership? Kowalski's injury was also taken into account as well; and while it was small and not the least bit life-threatening, there was still the stubborn fact that Private had gotten both Rico and Kowalski through unscathed. Completely.

Skipper punched his pillow fiercely and grunted as his flipper made contact with the soft surface. It just wasn't fair. Yesterday, he was the undisputed leader of the penguins. Now? What was his rank? What was Private's rank? Did they switch places? Skipper didn't see that section of the contract. Maybe he was still Captain, but Private was Major. Skipper didn't honestly want to think about it.

There was a creaking noise. Skipper sprung out of his bunk and turned his head toward the hatch where the sound had originated.

"If you're here to gloat, Private, I don't want to hear it," Skipper snarled, "Get out of here!"

"I'm not Private, Skipper," said a familiar voice, "Though I'll leave, if you'd like."

Skipper relaxed his muscles. "Sorry, Kowalski," Skipper said, "Feel free to come in." he added, seeing Kowalski's head peeping in awkwardly from the entrance. Kowalski slid down the ladder and landed a few feet away from Skipper. The scrape on his back was concealed by a single Band-Aid, a large one that was more than adequate for Kowalski's needs.

"How's your back?" Skipper asked.

"Fine." Kowalski replied shortly. There was a pause.

"Sorry about that." Skipper said.

"It's alright." Another pause.

"No, really," Skipper said, "I shouldn't have let you fall like that. I failed you as a leader."

"It's really no big deal, Skipper."

"No, it is a big deal," Skipper insisted, "And, Kowalski? I'm sorry…about how I acted…after you were hurt. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. When you were in pain. I'm sorry."

Kowalski shrugged, then winced. Shrugging and back wounds don't mix well, apparently. "It's just a scrape, Skipper. You said it yourself. In any case, you weren't…yourself in the obstacle course."

"Huh?"

"You wanted to win," Kowalski said simply, "I'm sorry, Skipper. But you really, truly wanted to win."

"Well of course!" Skipper said angrily, "Do you think I wanted Private to end up as leader? Do you think I wanted to give up everything? Everything! Do you think I wanted to fail my team?"

"Of course not, Skipper," Kowalski said hastily, "What I meant was that, not only did you want to win, you wanted Private to lose."

"Is there a difference?" Skipper asked, resentfully.

"Well, kind of, yeah," said Kowalski, "You wanted Private to fail. You wanted to see him crash and burn. You wanted him never to doubt your leadership again."

"Well, that sort of backfired now didn't it?" Skipper said coldly, with a cruel smile playing on his beak, "You know what just occurred to me, Kowalski? I started this competition. I insisted on it, actually. Thought I couldn't fail," Skipper snorted, "Hubris. If it weren't for that, I would still be the leader. Hubris and your nutty invention."

Kowalski squirmed uncomfortably. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"It's really no big deal, Kowalski," Skipper said, in a nasty impersonation of Kowalski's voice, "So. What's going on at Private's big victory bash?"

"It's a pretty usual King Julien party, actually. Loud music, dancing, limbo. Then there's Private and his bragging. When I left he was flirting with Darla. Actually seemed to be…doing pretty well with her," Kowalski said uncomfortably, "It's…weird…seeing him like that. It's hard to imagine that he's the same Lunacorn-loving softie we knew."

"That Private is dead," Skipper spat, harsher than he had expected it to sound, "This new guy is your commanding officer and don't you forget it," Skipper stopped thoughtfully, "Maybe we can stage ourselves a little mutiny…"

"We might have another option…." Kowalski said.

"Well, you are the options guy," Skipper said, "Shoot."

"I have a prototype prepared for a suspended animation machine. It works fine, but only for one shot. That's the flaw that I still need to work out. But otherwise, no problemo!" Kowalski said.

"You have a what? English, Kowalski!"

"Sort of a freezing machine. Like that rumor about what they did to Walt Disney. Except it looks more like a ray gun." Kowalski explained.

"And…you want to freeze me until Private is gone?" Skipper said, excitedly, "A little on the mad science side, but, hey! I've always wanted to live to see the dinosaurs return to the Earth, with their giant teeth and mile-long tails! Kudos, Kowalski!"

"Well, uh, that's not really my plan," Kowalski said, "You see, it will take me some time to finish my reverse-Awesometron device that could turn Private back to normal. But if we freeze Private, I have all the time in the world to work, and you…will be the leader again." Skipper's face grew distrustful.

"We would just freeze Private? Without his permission?" Skipper asked.

"While he's sleeping no less," Kowalski answered, "Yes, I understand it's cowardly, Skipper, but what choice do we have?"

Skipper thought about this. It was true they could hardly zap Private with a huge gun while he was awake. Private was too strong and fast now for them to hold down. He would likely be alert as he slept, of course, but it would be worse during the day. It didn't make Skipper feel right. It was like the second challenge when he was given that unfair question. Then he thought of tomorrow. Private would wake them up. Private would lead the training. Private would head the missions. Private would ask for options and explosives from Kowalski and Rico, respectively. Skipper would do nothing. A word came into his mind: Replaced. It was a cold word that tasted like sour milk. Skipper shuddered. No.

"No choice," Skipper consented, "We don't really have many options, do we? Alright, Kowalski. I'll go along with your plan. If it'll make me the leader again, I'll go along with it. Just tell me what you want me to do."

As Skipper and Kowalski talked, the dawn was beginning. The sky was distinctly lighter than it had been, and the party was starting to break up. In the early morning shadows, a small figure was crouching by the penguins' fishbowl entrance, the side of his head pressed firmly to the metal surface. Suddenly, the figure rose, and slipped across the smooth concrete, soundlessly jumping onto the habitat fence. The figure waddled briskly toward the clock tower, muttering under his breath as he went:

"They think they can get rid of me, huh? They think that they can try some science nonsense on me again, and turn me back into little naïve Private? No. I won't let that happen. That's not going to happen. I'm the leader now. No one can take that away. I've waited too long. But perhaps there may be…"

The rest of his words were lost into the shadows.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Skipper dreaded waking up the next morning. He knew that he was going to have to deal with Private. He had pretended to be sleeping when Private entered the HQ the night before, (really, it was very early morning), but he heard Private and Kowalski engaging in some mild chitchat. Kowalski's voice was calm and hard. There was no indication of Kowalski's scheme in it. No, he was playing it cool, which was not really his strong suit. Skipper was proud, but pride had trouble breaking through the layer of anxiety.

A few hours later, Skipper woke to Private's voice, angrily demanding they get up immediately. Skipper sat bolt upright. He must have fallen asleep at some point this morning. Skipper groaned. He wasn't used to being woken up in this coarse manner. 'Is this what it's like when I wake my men?' Skipper thought to himself. It wasn't exactly pleasant.

Rico and Kowalski pulled themselves out of their bunks, looking exhausted. Last night's adventures had clearly taken a toll. But not on Private. He appeared as awake as ever, laughing at their puffy and drooping eyelids. Skipper felt energized as well, but rage was what was fueling him. He had just noticed what Private was holding. A mug of fish coffee. His mug. His coffee.

"Hey!" Skipper called out angrily, the words not asking permission to leave his beak, "What do you think you're –" His brain finally kicked in and Skipper clamped his beak shut.

Private smirked. "Remembered, didn't you?" he said haughtily, "Remembered I'm your leader now?" Skipper got down off his bunk and glared at Private, telling himself over and over not to rise to the bait.

"I know the penalty for insubordination just as much as you do," Private continued, "And don't think for a minute that I'm not fully qualified to issue a court martial." Kowalski and Rico looked over this conversation warily, not sure whether or not to jump in. Their eyes looked at Skipper in a way that was both panicked and apologetic. The tension in the room was broken by the sound of fish slapping onto the pavement. Breakfast.

Without a word, Private shoved past Skipper and climbed up the ladder, pushing the hatch open as he went. Kowalski and Rico followed him, but both patted Skipper on the back as they went. Skipper decided stubbornly that he was going to skip breakfast this morning. But of course, he realized that he would have to eat sometime, and the team always ate all their meals together. Sighing, Skipper gave in to his growling stomach and began pulling himself up the ladder. 'Oh well,' Skipper thought, 'Tonight we'll freeze Private and everything will be…back to normal.' Except for the remarkably realistic penguin statue in the corner. Skipper shuddered. He'd never be able to watch a science fiction movie again.

Breakfast was eaten silently, which struck Skipper as rather unusual. He could understand Kowalski and Rico choosing to not say anything, but why would Private pass up an opportunity to gloat? Maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he'll drop that cocky attitude and –

No, it was too much to hope for. Private didn't say a word, but that didn't mean he wasn't still lording over Skipper. Skipper wondered how the corners of Private's beak didn't get sore after all of that smirking and found it very unfair that a creature with no actual eyebrows should be able to raise them so high. In broad daylight, sitting right across from Private, the previous night's hesitations melted away. Of course it would be fine to freeze Private. He would do it in an instant now…

After breakfast, Private began training. They were simple exercises, the kind that Skipper conducted every day. Jumping jacks and punches and stretches. Simple enough. The problem was really that Skipper was having trouble not calling out the next training activity or giving critique to the others.

"Skipper, who is the leader of this unit?" Private said in exasperation several times. Really, the way he was acting, you would have thought Private had been the leader for years. It was all Skipper could do not to tackle him. Over and over he had to remind himself that it would all end tonight. This whole nightmare would be over.

"Nice job, boys," Private said after they had taken down a dozen bowling-pin ninjas, "Very nice. Especially you, Skipper. Why with a little work, you could have my job in a few years!" He laughed. Skipper did not. "Lighten up, will you?" Private said, pounding Skipper on the back. Skipper only glared at him, and Private shrugged, "Whatever. We have just enough time for some push-ups before lunch. Would you like that, Skipper? As I recall, you could use a little work on them."

What happened next was a blur for Skipper. He launched himself toward Private, screaming as loudly as he could, with only the thought of hurting Private, hurting him as much as he could, on his mind. Then, Private was standing a few paces to the right of where he was before. He had sidestepped out of the way. Skipper tried to stop himself, tried to stop the momentum that was pushing his body forward but couldn't, and found himself colliding with Rico, tumbling over him and plunging them both headfirst into the water. Coughing and gasping, they surfaced, shaking the water out of their faces.

"I'm…sorry…Rico," Skipper panted, "I…didn't….mean to…" Rico snorted some water from his beak.

"Are you two okay?" Kowalski's head poked out from the side of the platform, "Here, let me give you a hand." He did, or a flipper so to speak, pulling up Rico first. When he helped Skipper up, Kowalski put his beak close to the side of Skipper's head. "Don't worry, sir. Just calm down and everything will be fine tonight. You'll see." Skipper nodded and patted Kowalski shoulder in thanks. And it wasn't for helping him out of the pool.

When Skipper made it back on the platform, Private was there, and he didn't look happy. Skipper had expected him to laugh at him, wonder why he thought he could take down the new leader. Private's glaring eyes were…a little more disturbing.

"You weren't trying to hurt me, were you?" Private said darkly, "You didn't really think you could beat me in a fight? Going to plan a mutiny?" Skipper stiffened and Private laughed, "You wouldn't dare," Private hissed. "I won fair and square, didn't I? Who'd have thought you'd be such a sore loser? But then, only a good leader always loses graciously. Not that I'll ever have to worry about that." He shoved the fishbowl away from the opening and disappeared into it.

Skipper wasn't upset at all by the words, though he felt that he should be. He realized that he was beginning to get used to Private's constant insults. He reminded himself they meant nothing at all. All the insults in the world couldn't save Private tonight. Then he frowned, thinking that this was the sort of thing one of his most evil enemies would think. It frightened him.

The rest of the day passed by agonizingly slowly. There were really no missions that day except for some patrolling of the zoo and helping Fred unstick a large acorn from his front teeth. Skipper had to admit that Private was actually doing very well as the leader. He knew the proper way to investigate a suspicious occurrence and acted swiftly and calmly during a mission. He was doing far better than Skipper would have expected him to, but not any better than Skipper himself could.

They played cards that night around the table, and Skipper was relieved that Private was not doing any better than usual at it. Skipper won a few hands in poker, but ended up losing in the end to Kowalski.

"You sure you're not cheating, man?" Skipper asked him good-naturedly.

"You've a keen eye, Skipper; if I was cheating you would have seen it." Kowalski responded with equal humor.

"I'll need an extra one to keep an eye on all of those kings you keep pulling out!" Skipper sighed and looked toward the clock. It was 9:56. Their lights-out time was 10:00. Or it used to be. Private seemed less strict than Skipper was, so maybe he would have the bedtime extended. On the other hand, Private hadn't slept at all the night before, and he did seem a little tired. At least, he wasn't really talking, and kept glancing at the clock. Skipper couldn't contain his excitement. Or his anxiety. His heart was pounding like crazy.

Suddenly, Private stood up and yawned loudly. "Getting late, soldiers," he said, "Get to bed. Or do whatever, I don't care. But none of you better be exhausted tomorrow morning or I'll use your heads for volleyball practice."

Since no one wanted their skulls tossed over a net, they all began waddling toward the bunks. Skipper stepped toward Kowalski and said out of the corner of his beak: "When do we do it?" It was obvious Private was planning on sleeping; he had already climbed into his bunk.

"Midnight," Kowalski said softly, not looking at Skipper, "He ought to be in deep sleep by then. And…it sounds nice to say we'll do it at midnight." The corners of Skipper's mouth twitched as he suppressed a smile. Kowalski could be a funny guy when he wasn't spouting scientific gibberish.

"Don't forget to wake me when it's time. You might need a hand with him." Skipper said, leaving Kowalski's side to climb the ladder. Private had taken the bottom bunk, so he decided to settle for the top. Before pulling himself into the concrete hole in the wall, he stretched his shoulders and sighed contently. He realized that by the next morning, everything would be back to normal. Like it had all been a dream. And then, in no time at all, good old Private would be back. The kind they knew and loved. Skipper would never take him for granted again, that's for sure. What he wouldn't give to have the sweet little boy he knew back, right now. Skipper lay down in his bed and made himself comfortable. Oh well. He could settle for a few months, anyhow.

Skipper woke with a start to a loud banging noise. It surprised him so much that he sat bolt upright and smashed his head against his bunk. Rubbing his scalp, he looked toward the clock on the wall. Only a few minutes to midnight. Suddenly, Skipper was angry. Kowalski didn't wait for him to do the job.

"Kowalski, I thought I told you to –" Skipper stopped abruptly when he realized that Kowalski was standing in the middle of the floor, flippers empty, looking as confused as he was. Rico had gotten up as well, looking toward the ceiling of the HQ, where the sound had originated. Private was missing. Skipper's eyes widened as he jumped down from the bunk. Private was missing! Whatever the explanation, Skipper had a gut feeling he wouldn't like it.

"What's going on?" Skipper asked, urgently. Rico and Kowalski shrugged and shook their heads. There was a creaking noise and the fishbowl shifted out of place. Private's head slid in through the opening. "Come on up here, boys. There's something I think you should see up here." He said this in a measured voice that made the three other penguins forget their grudge against him and move as quickly as they could up the ladder and onto the concrete island. In fighting stance, they circled, surveying the area. Then they saw him. Standing next to Private. Coming out of the shadows, a grin on his face.

"Pain – gu – ins…How nice to see you all again!"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Blowole!" Skipper cried, "What're you doing here? I thought you were still…you know…"

"Mind jacked?" Blowhole suggested, grinning, "Did you really think someone with my level of intelligence could have their memories removed permanently, Skipper?"

Skipper didn't answer. His flippers were still up and his muscles were tense. Kowalski and Rico were also ready for a fight, and Rico had a growl forming deep in his throat. But Private…stood placidly, his arms crossed over his chest, _smirking_ at Skipper.

"Relax, Skipper, I am not here for a fight," Blowhole said smoothly.

"Why - ?" Skipper stopped himself. He could feel the puzzle piecing itself together in his mind, but he paid no attention to it, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. This was not something his brain necessarily needed to control, after all. Whether his arch-enemy wanted it or not, tonight there was going to be a fight.

"Boys, we seem to have ourselves an intruder," Skipper said, "Let's go!"

"Not so fast, Skipper," Private said, "Once again, you seem to be forgetting who the leader is."

"Fine then, you lead the attack," Skipper said in exasperation, "I don't care who throws the first punch so long as he's gone by the end of it." Private did nothing, just continued smirking at Skipper.

"What are you waiting for?" Skipper asked angrily. Why was Blowhole just standing there? Why did he say he didn't want a fight? Why wasn't Private doing anything? "Attack him!"

"No." Private said calmly.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" Kowalski said, his voice rising in pitch as well as volume.

"I mean 'no'," Private answered, "You're the smart guy, Kowalski. You figure it out." There was a pause. Skipper looked at Kowalski and saw his eyes suddenly widen.

"Y-y-you…" Kowalski stuttered, "And…B-B-Blowhole…?" Private rolled his eyes in mock annoyance.

"You're a little off your game tonight, Kowalski," Private said, "After all, a penguin who can build a suspended animation machine ought to be able to figure out what's going on here." Skipper inhaled sharply. His blood pounded in his earholes.

"You…you know about that?" Skipper said quietly.

"I know everything that goes on here in this unit, Skipper," Private said, his eyes glinting maliciously, "Especially when my men are planning a mutiny."

"Not your men anymore, Private." Blowhole reminded him.

"Yes, of course," Private said with a grin, "Old habit, I think."

"Private," Skipper said in a hard voice, "What does he mean? When he says that we're not your men anymore?"

"I'm leaving the team, Skipper," Private said shortly, "I'm leaving the team, and I'm joining Dr. Blowhole."

The words bounced around the inside of Skipper's skull for a while before he really heard them. Private…a traitor? Leaving to join…Blowhole. Skipper's enemy. One of his men…turning evil. What new nightmare was this?

"It can't be." Skipper murmured, looking at the ground and not at Private's face. If he had, he would have seen Private raise his eyebrows.

"Can't it?" Private said, "My own men were planning a mutiny. Why should I be loyal to any of you when you were willing to subject me to a fate worse than death?"

"Stop it!" Rico yelled suddenly. They all stared at him, even Blowhole.

"Rico's right," Kowalski said, "Private. You aren't yourself. Don't do this. This isn't who you are! You're not…evil."

"Evil is in the eye of the beholder." Private shrugged.

"Private is right," Blowhole said, "Private simply wants the power and control that only I can provide him with. Frankly, I can't imagine why you ever neglected him," he added, "When he contacted me using one of the human television stations, I was very impressed by his intelligence and determination. A coded message that the humans could not understand on every channel, every TV, even the ones that were off! I was hesitant at first, but eventually I decided to respond and give him the time and place I would pick him up. I do not regret my choice. Private will no doubt be an incredible asset to my plans," Blowhole laughed, "Oh, and do I have plans! I won't go into them now, I don't want to bore you with the details. Go about your silly missions, content that I will soon have the world in my flippers…and your Private by my side." Blowhole laughed again, and this time, Private joined in.

"Congratulations, Skipper," Private said in a mocking voice, "You're the leader again." And with a short laugh, Blowhole's flying bubble sprung up around the two.

"No!" Skipper shouted, and tried to stop the bubble from rising, but it was too late. It had already risen into the air and was quickly disappearing into the night sky.

Skipper stood frozen, staring up at the blackness.

"Should we…should we go after them?" Kowalski said weakly. Skipper shook his head. Even if they used their bottle rockets, they could never catch up with them. Besides, Private was separated now by more than distance. He wasn't worth saving. Skipper remembered how he had wished, just the night before, for Private to be gone forever. Not this way. He would have never have expected any of his men to go this way. Skipper wondered briefly is he would have rather had Private be his commanding officer than by his arch-enemy's side. He shuddered. It made him feel ill, the thought of Blowhole and Private together, plotting schemes, fighting side by side…

And then it hit him. The thing that had been gnawing on him ever since Private had announced his treachery. Skipper couldn't understand why Dr. Blowhole would want a penguin working for him. Why would anyone want to put all of their trust into their enemy? Blowhole needed something from Private, something that he couldn't get without help. He needed to tap into some of the penguins' strength. Their fighting skill. Blowhole could not defeat them if it came down to combat. He needed a muscle, a muscle he knew would be evenly matched with Skipper. A muscle that Skipper could never kill. Skipper knew firmly and distinctly that he could never kill Private. He didn't like what Kowalski's invention had done to him, but under that – somewhere, he knew – was the old Private that was his brother. Skipper closed his eyes. _'Don't think like that!'_ he commanded himself, _'Don't think like that! Private is an enemy now. He's a _traitor_. You can't trust him, ever again. And if it comes down to it…hurt him as badly as you can. Until he can't stand up again. He's not Private. He's not Private. He's an enemy.'_

"This is your fault Kowalski." Skipper said coldly, without turning around to look at him.

"I know." Kowalski said miserably.

"Your invention did this."

"I know."

"I suppose we're out of options now, aren't we?"

"There are…there are none that I can think of at the moment," Kowalski admitted hollowly, "I'll keep trying, though."

"Don't bother," Skipper said, "Private's a traitor and there's nothing that can be done about it. For now."

"Private." Rico said softly. Skipper pulled his eyes away from the sky and sighed, staring at his men.

"Yeah, Rico," he said, "Yeah." Skipper didn't feel like saying more, nor did he have to. Kowalski and Rico understood.

"What do you want to do now, Skipper?" Kowalski asked.

"Now?" Skipper repeated, "Now I want to go to bed. And as your newly reinstated leader, I order you boys to as well." Skipper's voice had taken on a horribly cheerful quality that sent shivers down Kowalski and Rico's spines.

"Skipper?" Kowalski said.

"What?"

"Are you alright?"

"No." Skipper said tonelessly.

"Do you want to - ?"

"I want to go to bed Kowalski!" Skipper said loudly, "That's all I want to do at the moment and I command you to do the same! Now MARCH!"

"Let's go." Rico mumbled to Kowalski, gripping the shocked penguin's shoulder. When they had both disappeared under the fishbowl, Skipper paused for a moment before climbing down the ladder. He looked back into the darkness of the night sky.

"Be safe, soldier," he whispered. Skipper gave a small salute before following the two remaining members of his unit into the HQ.

Sometimes, it took Skipper a little while in the morning to really wake up. A few minutes to remember what had taken place the night before. What dangerous missions and exciting adventures he had participated in. But this morning was different. Skipper woke up with a pounding temple, a dry throat, and a painfully clear memory of the events of the night. It was early, earlier than he usually woke his team, and Rico and Kowalski were still sleeping soundly. Well, if they could sleep, then Skipper was going to give them all the rest they needed. As he pulled himself out of the bunk and onto the floor, Skipper tried as best he could not to stare at the empty bottom bunk. It somehow crept into his line of vision anyway.

Skipper was sitting at the table sipping his coffee when Kowalski and Rico first woke up. They stared at the clock, noting that it was about half an hour past their normal wake up time.

"Thought you boys could use a little extra sleep this morning," Skipper said, not waiting for them to ask, "But now that you're up, we can get started with some training."

"Sounds good to me!" Kowalski said cheerily.

"Yeah!" Rico exclaimed in an equally happy voice. Skipper knew they were just trying to please him, but he didn't really care at the moment.

Training was a quiet affair and eventless. Skipper lead them through the drills mechanically, and offered next to no criticism of Kowalski and Rico's performances. He tried his best to feel happy to be in control of his team and their training again, but if it was ever there at all, the happiness was fleeting. Skipper kept looking at the same spot on the platform while doing the exercises. _'That was where Blowhole was,'_ he thought, _'That was where Private stood next to him. That was where they escaped.'_

Finally, Skipper ended training and gave the team the rest of the day off. "Just do whatever!" he snapped, "Get snowcones or something; I don't care!"

As it turned out, neither Rico nor Kowalski were interested in snowcones. Kowalski went to go tinker with something in his lab and Rico started brushing his doll's hair. Sighing, Skipper picked up some old mission files he had been meaning to organize and went to work. It was mindless busy work, but he commanded himself to concentrate on it anyway. For an hour or so, he was completely engrossed. Then he heard the unmistakable sound of their TV turning on.

Skipper's head snapped to attention as he saw Rico freeze where he was, his flippers still resting on the remote.

"Turn. That. Off," Skipper said coldly. The screen still showed the effects of the Awesome-Tron. It was the Lunacorn channel, just like the first time they had tried out Kowalski's invention…Private had protested, he didn't want to see his favorite show turned into a violent one, like was on the screen now. Private had hated violence…

"Sorry," Rico mumbled sheepishly. He started to turn off the TV, but suddenly, Skipper said: "Wait."

The image on the screen was starting to change. Dark colors where becoming bright again. Suspenseful music became soft, childlike tones. The Lunacorn that had been disabling a nuclear bomb stopped, turned toward the audience, and, in a voice lighter than air, began talking about all the different kinds of shapes there are. In less than a minute, the old Lunacorn show was back.

"Kowalski," Skipper shouted without taking his eyes off the screen, "I think you should come in here." Kowalski burst into the room; he hadn't been deep in any inventing process anyway. He frowned as he looked at the screen.

"So?" Kowalski said, "It's just the Lunacorns."

"You don't remember a certain something we did to this particular show?" Skipper asked. Kowalski's eyes widened in understanding.

"Are you saying that the effects of my Awesome-Tron 8000 have been reversed?" Kowalski said.

"Kowalski, all I'm saying is that the pink Lunacorn is no longer killing anyone!" Skipper said, "Do you have an explanation by any chance?" Kowalski whipped out his clipboard and stared at something on it.

"It would seem that…after a certain period of time…anything we zapped…would turn back to normal. The Awesome-Tron 8000 must only be able to change things temporarily."

They decided to check some other channels to test Kowalski's hypothesis. Every one that they had zapped was either back to normal or in the process of changing.

"Well, now we know for sure," Kowalski said tentatively. He didn't meet Skipper's gaze.

"What about Private?" Skipper asked, "He was zapped too. What about - ?"

"Skipper?" Kowalski said softly, "I think you know."

"Yeah," Skipper said, "Yeah I do know." He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes tightly, his expression pained, "Somewhere, our old Private is in the clutches of Dr. Blowhole."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Okay, men. We need to get Private back…fast." Skipper said, pacing, "If Blowhole realizes Private's back to normal, he might not think he's useful anymore. I don't know why that madman does with his broken toys, but I'm sure it ain't pretty. Now give me some options, Kowalski. What's our first move?" Kowalski cleared his throat.

"We will need to locate Dr. Blowhole's lair," he said.

"Good thinking," Skipper said sarcastically, "Now. Does anyone know where he's hiding?" Rico and Kowalski shuffled their feet.

"Uhhhh…no," Rico said.

"Great," Skipper said, rubbing his temples, "Just great."

They spent the next hour or so looking through their files, trying to find some clue of where Blowhole might be.

"Coney Island again?" Kowalski suggested in an exhausted voice.

"Nah, he just spent a few horrible months there. He wouldn't want to stay," Skipper said. He poured himself another mug of coffee. "And besides, you mentioned that 20 minutes ago!"

"Fine then. How about Denmark? Do you think he could be there, Skipper? I mean, it's the last place you'd go. You wouldn't be likely to follow," said Kowalski eagerly. He really wanted to be right on this one.

"Blowhole's got the same track record with the Danes that I do!" Skipper said in exasperation, so beyond being gentle with Kowalski.

"This is getting us nowhere!" Kowalski said, throwing up his arms. Skipper sighed.

"For once I agree with you. This is impossible! How did Private even manage to get to Blowhole in the first place?" he grumbled. Suddenly, Kowalski's face lit up.

"Skipper, that's it!" Kowalski cried.

"It is?" Skipper asked.

"Yes!" Kowalski exclaimed, "How did Blowhole _say_ Private found him?" Skipper thought back to that moment when Blowhole and Private had been standing together in their habitat. His stomach churned.

"Something about TV, right?" Skipper said.

"He sent Blowhole a message using television signals!" Kowalski said.

"Ok, well we don't want to send him a message, Kowalski. We want him NOT to know we're coming!" Skipper said, "You're losing your touch."

"But don't you see, Skipper?" Kowalski said, "Private must have used some sort of transmitter to contact Dr. Blowhole; so all we need to do is find the transmitter and I can trace where the response came from!"

"You can do that?" Skipper asked.

"I'm a scientist, Skipper, I can do anything," Kowalski replied pompously.

"Can you tell us where Private's transmitter is then?" Kowalski's face fell.

"Well…almost everything," he said meekly.

Skipper rolled his eyes. "Right. Then we'll search the entire zoo, men! Leave no stone unturned…and check under the benches too!"

Skipper, Rico and Kowalski split up to cover more ground. Rico started searching at Marlene's place, and nearly destroyed her home in the process. Kowalski analyzed every inch of the walkways, trying to find some DNA evidence that could lead him in the right direction. He had little success. Skipper interviewed several zoo animals. None of them had seen Private after he left the party on the night he won the competition. For some reason, the fact that he had lost his leadership to Private seemed a minute detail. What was most important, Skipper thought, was that they got Private home before Blowhole could hurt him. Every second counted.

Eventually, frustrated and disgruntled, Skipper decided to climb the clock tower and see if his binoculars could spot some antennae or something. He really had almost no idea what it was he was looking for, but he prided himself on having an eye for anything unusual.

He found something very unusual at the top of the clock tower. It was a metal box, about half Skipper's size. The box was attached to the bell by wires stuck to the few square inches that were not occupied with knobs and switches and buttons. It was giving off a faint humming sound, punctuated every few minutes by a tiny _ping!_

Skipper picked up his walkie-talkie. "Kowalski, Rico!" he said into it, "Get up to the clock tower pronto. There's something here you guys oughta see."

In less than a minute, all three penguins were surveying the object. "I'm going to guess this is what we were looking for, right Kowalski?" Skipper asked.

Kowalski nodded, "This is a transmitter alright. _My_ transmitter. Private must have stolen it at some point. I knew I should have put a lock on my lab."

"We'll put it into next year's budget," Skipper promised, "Now work your science on this thing!" Kowalski got a few tools from Rico and opened up a panel in the back of the box, revealing a small screen with flashing numbers on it. Kowalski worked quickly, pulling out wires and typing in codes. After a few moments, he stood up and wiped sweat from his forehead.

"I've got a location," Kowalski said.

"Where?" asked Skipper.

"Hartford," Kowalski responded, "Connecticut."

"Excellent," Skipper said, rubbing his flippers together, "You know the address?"

"Not an address really, Skipper," Kowalski said, "It appears to be a sewer system."

"Yuck. Why do the bad guys always pick the gross places?" Skipper said, rolling his eyes, "Alright. We're getting into our bottle rockets."

"Aw yeah!" Rico cheered.

"My sentiments exactly!" Skipper said smiling. He could have laughed out loud. They were going to get Private back. And if they got there quickly enough, Blowhole may not even realize that his new henchmen was nothing more than a boy again. But if they were too late…

Skipper felt like an anvil had been dropped in his stomach as he thought about what would happen if they were too late. Skipper shook his head to clear it, furious with himself. Worrying was only going to slow him down.

In only a few minutes, they were soaring through the sky. Kowalski was talking at length about the times when Private could have managed to take his invention. Skipper mostly just tuned out his words. Every gust of wind seemed to cry out in Private's voice: _"Where are you? Why aren't you helping me?"_ The knot in Skipper's stomach tightened and tightened and tightened until finally, Kowalski signaled they should touch down in a small grassy field beneath them, and Skipper took what felt like his first breath of air.

After a somewhat less-than smooth landing, Kowalski pulled out a small electronic device. "Okay, according to my readings, we are in Connecticut," he said.

"No duh," Rico said, pointing to a giant sign reading "Hartford, Connecticut".

"Right," Kowalski said in a small voice, "Anyway, Dr. Blowhole's hideout should be right underneath our feet."

"We just need a manhole," Skipper said. "Then we should have no trouble getting Private and getting out. It may not be easy, especially if Private isn't back to normal just yet. After all, he did get hit with Kowalski's invention a little _after_ the TV did. But with the three of us together, Private won't be able to give us any problem. And if we run into Blowhole…well, we've fought him before - and won - and we'll do it again. _I'm_ not concerned one bit."

Kowalski smiled, "I like this pep talk better than the usual one, Skipper."

"Yeah, the whole 'succeed or die trying' thing just got old," Skipper grinned. The nearest street, as it turned out, had the manhole they needed. Rico wanted to blow it up, but Kowalski suggested they just lift it as quickly as possible to avoid being hit by a car.

"The last thing we want is Dr. Blowhole finding out we're after Private. We've got to get in and out without him knowing, if possible," Kowalski explained, "So we'll have to be quiet." The last word was barely a whisper. Skipper nodded.

"Sorry compadre," Skipper said, patting Rico on the back, "If all goes well, you won't have to blow anything up at all."

"Aw, maaan," Rico grumbled as they dropped into the sewer. Even in the next state over, it smelled horrible. They walked along slowly, listening intently for any sound. Their flashlights cut beams of light across the blackness.

"Wait a minute," Skipper said suddenly, "I think there's something on that wall. Rico, get me a flashlight." Rico spat one into Skipper's flipper, taking a moment to note that the last time he had regurgitated one of those was in the final challenge of the competition. It made his belly squirm with something that wasn't dynamite.

Skipper shone the beam on the wall. Sure enough, there was a tiny door, made of metal, with a small combination lock on it. Skipper could have laughed out loud. Kowalski could open this door in a minute. In fact, Kowalski already had out his stethoscope and was just waiting for orders.

"Go for it," Skipper said, handing Kowalski the flashlight. In a few seconds, Kowalski said in a quiet voice: "I've got it." The door swung open.

"Proceed carefully, men. You don't know what tricks Blowhole's got up his sleeve…that is, if Blowhole had sleeves," Skipper said. The others agreed. All of Skipper's relief at the simple lock had disappeared. Getting through that door had been a little too easy. Blowhole was never careless. And he always had a plan.

They side-stepped through the door. As they did so, a light flickered to life above them. The penguins froze, and lifted their flippers, preparing for an assault. But nothing happened.

"It must just be…automatic," Kowalski said in a relieved voice, "It goes on when it senses motion."

"Yeah," Skipper said, suspiciously, "Automatic…" None of them relaxed their muscles. But they did move forward, inching their way down a long passageway with new, shiny metal walls. Every few yards, another light would turn on, and the team would stop, listen for any noise and move on. After a few minutes, the hallway forked into two paths.

"Anyone got a good gut feeling?" Skipper asked. Kowalski and Rico both nodded, and then pointed in opposite directions. Rico growled.

"Well, that's not getting us anywhere," Skipper sighed, "Okay, let's just go –"

"Skipper?" Skipper spun on his heels and stared down the left passageway, from where the voice came from. That familiar voice…

There was the sound of feet slapping against concrete, and out of the darkness came Private, running toward them.

"Skipper!" Private said again, relief spreading across his face, "It _is_ you! Rico! Kowalski! I was starting to think -" Then Private stopped, only inches from Skipper. The grin dropped from his face. He stared at them as if he had never seen them before in his life.

"Private," Skipper said, "Do you…uh…have your senses back?" It was a pointless question. All three of them could see that he was the old Private. There was something about him, a softness that they recognized, a kindness in his eyes. But now his eyes were quickly filling with anxiety and pain.

"What are you doing here?" he said in a hushed voice.

"Rescuing you, what do you think?" Skipper said, smiling. His heart was racing; he felt a great sense of relief, knowing that Private was okay, better than okay, really, because he was back to normal. "Did you think we were just going to-"

"You have to get out of here!" Private interrupted, "All of you! Get- Get out of here! Now!" His voice cracked on the last word because he was shouting now, waving his arms wildly.

"What's the matter with you, Private?" Kowalski exclaimed.

"I can't explain now. Just _leave_," Private pleaded, "_Please_. You _have_ to."

"It's alright, Private," Skipper said soothingly. Then, quickly, as Private showed signs of wanting to interrupt him again: "We're not scared of Blowhole, Private. We've beat him before, and now that you're yourself again, you can help us this time. Everything's gonna be ok." Skipper smiled.

"It's not that, Skipper. It's –" Suddenly, Private gasped. "Ohhh…" His flippers clawed upward toward his throat, almost like he was choking. He gagged. Private's eyes bulged and he shut his beak tightly, like he was trying not to be sick. He began to shake

"Private!" Skipper cried. He ran toward Private, who was now doubled over, as if he had been punched. But Private turned his head toward Skipper and shot him such a furious look that Skipper stopped in his tracks. Skipper immediately knew something was wrong, very wrong. Worse than he could have possibly imagined. Private had never looked at him like that, in that desperate, pained way. Even when Kowalski's invention changed him, he had never looked at him in that way.

"Get away from me!" Private hissed in a harsh voice, angry and commanding, "Get away! Now! Run!"

"Skipper…" Kowalski said in a frightened tone. Private squeezed his eyes shut and groaned.

"_Noooo_," he moaned feebly, "_Noooo_. Don't –" He threw up. For a moment, he was on the floor, on all fours, panting and sobbing. Then all at once, he was silent. His breathing slowed and he stood. As Private's head straightened up, Skipper could see that his pupils were so dilated, there was only the faintest ring of blue around what appeared to be pure black eyes.

"Private?" Skipper said, in a voice that revealed every bit of the fear he was feeling. For some reason, he felt cold, very cold. "Are you alright?"

Private said nothing. Then he lunged at Skipper. Before he could react, Skipper felt pain and tasted blood.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Skipper fell flat onto his back, the wind knocked out of him, unable to breathe. He could feel a warm trickle of blood oozing down from his beak. Maybe it was broken. He didn't have time to think about what it would mean to have both mouth and nose disabled because Private had now jumped on top of him and was punching him again and again, each second bringing on a new wave of pain. It was déjà vu for Skipper. He remembered the first time Private had ever attacked him, right after Kowalski's invention had changed him. This was different though. Private hadn't been aiming to hurt him like this. There wasn't that horrible, murderous look in his eyes.

Skipper kicked up hard. Private flew off of him and landed on his feet. Kowalski and Rico were on him in an instant, trying to hold him down as best as possible. Private was putting up a good fight though, and Rico and Kowalski were no match for him. Private didn't seem to care who he punched so long as he had plenty of targets. When Rico got a second's break from being hit, he paused, standing a few feet away from Private. Skipper knew what was about to happen.

"Don't hurt him!" Skipper shouted, standing up shakily. His voice was nasal, because of that punch to his beak, "Rico, if you regurgitate anything more deadly than a rubber duck, you will be court martialed," Skipper wiped some of the blood from his face, "He isn't himself. Blowhole did something to him."

"Very good, Skipper," came a cool condescending voice, "Private! Cease!" Immediately, Private pulled his flippers close to his sides and stood up straight. Dr. Blowhole rode out of the shadows of the right corridor and smiled.

"Impressive, don't you think?" Blowhole drawled, as Kowalski, who had been knocked to the ground, staggered to his feet. Skipper clenched his flippers into fists at his sides.

"What. Did. You do to him?" Skipper growled.

"You're controlling his mind, aren't you, you – you psycho!" Kowalski said in a voice that he was not even trying to keep calm. Skipper looked over at Private. Yes, that was the only logical explanation. And suddenly, a blind fury rose up in Skipper, so hot and burning that he thought he could rush up to Blowhole and rip out his throat with his beak. But he took a deep breath and forced himself to keep his head. He couldn't help Private or the rest of his team if Blowhole injured or killed him.

"Yes," Blowhole said simply, "It was unfortunate, really, that I had to. He could have been so useful. No, you don't need to explain anything to me," Blowhole added, as Kowalski had already opened his beak, "I know that he only got so ambitious after one of your so-called inventions shot him. I got the whole story out of Private when I found him huddled in a closet _crying_, _desperately_ trying to reach you with an old cell phone he must have picked up somewhere." Blowhole laughed, as though this was the funniest thing he could have imagined happening.

"You're mad," Skipper said, "Absolutely mad. You change Private back! Now! Or we'll get violent, right here."

"You're forgetting one thing, Skipper," Blowhole said, "It's three already injured pain-gu-ins versus me and a puppet who has been programmed to either capture or kill you…or be killed himself in the process." The anger rose up in Skipper again, because even though he had figured that this was the truth, it was quite different to hear Blowhole say it aloud. Then one word stuck out to him.

"Capture?" Skipper asked.

"Yes," Blowhole said, "You see, my first real attempt at mind control worked so well, I figured three more test subjects may work just as well.

"You already tried this once," Kowalski said boldly, "To affect our minds. Your diaboligizer. The mind-jacker. Those didn't work out too well, did it, Bottlenose."

"They were different, Kowalski, very different," Blowhole said airily, "There were serious flaws there, serious flaws. The mind-jacker's affects were so easily thought out of. And the diaboligizer…well, for one thing, monsters are so unpredictable and difficult to control. Why, when I escaped that retched water park and returned to my lair, my original experiment had already eaten every one of my lobster minions, forcing me to start from scratch. Private here is only able to harm you three at the moment. But when I have all four of you under my control, there is no limit to what I can accomplish."

"We'll never help you," Skipper said, "We'll die first." Blowhole smirked.

"I expected that. So be it. Young Private here had the same perspective. But unlike you, he didn't have much of a choice. I didn't give _him_ the generous offer of death," Blowhole laughed, "You would have been proud, Skipper," Skipper stiffened, "Oh, if you had seen him kicking and punching before the…procedure. You would have been proud indeed. You trained him well."

"But it didn't matter, in the end," Kowalski mumbled. All of his previous bravado gone, he stared at the floor and looked both disgusted and horrified.

"No," Blowhole agreed, "It didn't matter one bit what kind of fight he put up. Though I did need to use the most powerful sedative in my collection. He slept like a baby after that."

"Sedative? But then you - ?" Skipper suddenly felt sick. There would be only one reason why Blowhole would have needed Private to be asleep. He couldn't be unconscious for hypnosis to work properly. And if it had been a ray gun or something, like the diaboligizer, he could have shot him easily whether he was awake or not.

Skipper looked closely at Private now, and saw what he hadn't before in the dim light. Saw the small row of stitches in a neat line cutting through his temple.

"You didn't," Skipper whispered, backing up against a wall to support himself, "You couldn't have …in his brain…"

"They don't call me _Doctor_ Blowhole for nothing. And it's not like it was brain surgery," Blowhole laughed, out-of-control and louder than Skipper had heard him laugh before, "Oh wait. IT WAS!" Blowhole laughed even harder.

Suddenly, Skipper was on top of Blowhole, pummeling him again and again with his flippers, screaming the worst names he could think of at the top of his voice. He must have started attacking him unconsciously. Rico and Kowalski were there too, helping him fight Blowhole. Both looked just as furious as Skipper. Blowhole just seemed shocked and was barely fending them off. But this didn't last. He quickly came to his senses.

"Private!" barked Blowhole, "Attack them!" Skipper paused and looked toward where Private had been standing, only to have a black-and-white blur smash into him and throw him from Blowhole's body onto the floor several yards away.

"Skipper!" Rico and Kowalski yelled in unison.

"I'm al – " He didn't get the chance to finish the sentence. Private was racing toward him with that evil glint in his eye. Skipper jumped backwards to avoid Private's blow and flipped upside down in midair. His foot kicked upwards and connected with Private's beak. There was a slight crunching sound and Private fell backwards.

"Ow!" he cried. Skipper froze. It was Private's voice. He didn't know what he had been expecting, but he didn't expect this evil monster to sound so…familiar. Skipper hesitated.

"What are you _doing_?" Kowalski screamed. They had abandoned Blowhole to help Skipper with Private and were now a few inches from him. Blowhole was pulling himself back onto his Segway and surveying the scene with pleasure in his eyes. Skipper looked from Kowalski to Private who was starting to rise again.

"But he's –" Skipper was cut off by the mild interruption of having a foot slammed into his face. But this time, Skipper was ready. He steadied himself and slapped Private hard across his face. Private's head cracked to the side.

Private's pupils suddenly contracted, making his eyes blue again. "Right…sir…" Private mumbled. Skipper's eyes widened in shock.

"Attack him, Private!" Blowhole's voice cried. Private blinked, and when he opened his eyes, they were black once more.

"Run Skipper!" Kowalski shouted, "Run!" Skipper turned without hesitating and slid on his belly down the hall toward the open door that led outside. Rico and Kowalski slid alongside him.

"It's no use, Skipper!" Kowalski panted, "It's no use. He's too strong. We'll have to get out of here. It's the only way to save ourselves."

"But what about Private?" Skipper shouted in anger, "You're just going to leave him? Do you think he would have done that to you, Kowalski? Do you think Private would have left any one of us behind, if our roles were reversed?"

"I'm sorry, Skipper," Kowalski said quietly, "But it's the only way. I'll look for a cure to whatever Blowhole did to Private's brain. I'll find a way to help him. I promise."

"That's not good enough," Skipper snarled. He stopped sliding and stood up, "I'm going back there." They were at the door now. Beyond them was a sewer passageway that led to a field where their rockets were stored. Only a short flight away was a zoo and a habitat with warm beds and enough intruder defense mechanisms to keep them safe for a long time. But Skipper would not go back if one of his men was in danger. He wouldn't sit back and not lift a flipper while Blowhole did whatever he wanted to Private.

"Skipper, you can't," Kowalski pleaded, he and Rico also standing, "Please. Be reasonable."

"After them!" Blowhole screamed behind them. The three penguins turned quickly and saw Private sliding toward them, eyes narrowed in hatred.

"Skipper, it's now or never," Kowalski insisted. Skipper's mind raced as he tried to find a solution. He knew his men would stick by him no matter what he decided. And so it was his responsibility to make sure they all got out alive and well.

"Let's get into the sewer," Skipper said in a calm voice, "But we're not running. We're going to hide and think of a plan." Kowalski and Rico nodded. "Go!" They darted out of the opening and jumped into a pipe in the wall. They pressed themselves tight against the sides of the pipe, trying to catch their breaths.

"Now what?" Skipper asked Kowalski.

"Why are you asking me?" Kowalski said, "This was your idea!"

"'Cause yours was to run away like a scared little girl!" Skipper retorted.

"Shhhhh!" Rico hissed angrily. Kowalski and Skipper instantly fell silent, ashamed that they let their voices get so loud. This was a situation that required them to be completely quiet. Suddenly, they heard a small footfall. They knew without looking that it was Private. After all, Dr. Blowhole didn't even have a foot.

Skipper tried to think of something. He needed to find a way to capture Private and take him back to the HQ. Then Kowalski could figure out how to reverse Blowhole's mind control. But how to trap him…Private had only one intention on his mind now: to kill the three of them. So how was Skipper to keep him contained? Rico may have a net they could use…but how long would it take for Private to rip a net apart? They could always gas him of course…Yes, that would be the only way. It wasn't ideal, and there were many places where it could go wrong, but they only had minutes before Private found them. And if they didn't have a plan, however mediocre, by that point, they would be goners.

"Okay, boys," Skipper whispered, "Here's what we're going to do…" The plan was simple. Skipper, being the fastest and the best able to defend himself single-handedly against Private, would be the bait. He would run out and so Private wouldn't suspect that he was meant as a distraction, he would fight him as hard as he could. As soon as Private was properly occupied, Rico would jump out of the hiding place and shoot the strongest net he had from his mouth. The second Private was tangled in the net, Kowalski would throw a gas bomb at him. Skipper would have to quickly clear the area at this point, no matter what shape he was in after the fight. After all, Kowalski may hesitate to knock Private out if his commanding officer would also be hit. And they didn't have that kind of time to waste.

"Does everyone get it?" Skipper asked when he was done. Rico and Kowalski nodded.

"What happens if it doesn't work?" Kowalski asked.

"Then we're screwed," Skipper replied, "So we might as well go back to your original plan, Kowalski, and get the hell out of here while our hearts are still beating. But let's go with what we've got right now and hope we get lucky. Understood?"

Kowalski smiled, but it was a sad smile. Because he did understand. He understood that, beneath that gruff front he was putting up, Skipper was disgusted with himself for even suggesting that they leave Private behind. Kowalski had seen Skipper's face when Blowhole had revealed what he'd done to Private. He'd seen the hope in his eyes when Private briefly returned to his normal self after Skipper had slapped him. And above all, he had seen Skipper's entire being light up with joy when they'd first seen Private in that tunnel, apparently unharmed and just like he had been before this whole mess had started up. Kowalski knew that this wasn't just to do with Private. Skipper would have felt the same way if any one of them had been in Private's situation. The only difference was that Private was no more than a child, young and innocent. Kowalski knew this was significant, although in what way he could not really be completely sure of. What was going on here was wrong on too many levels.

"Let's go," Skipper said. He slid out from behind their pillar. Immediately, Private's head turned and his eyes flashed.

"Okay, Private," Skipper said softly, "I'm ready for you." Private charged at Skipper. Skipper ducked out of the way just in time. If he had stayed in place a second longer, he would have been shoved into the sewer water. But instead, he was high and dry on the concrete. For now anyway.

So this was the time. Skipper didn't know how much more of this he could take.

"Now, Rico!" Skipper shouted. The net flew out toward them, and Skipper had to dive out of the way to avoid being caught in it as well. Private tried his best to get out of the area, but he couldn't. The net entangled his legs and curled around the rest of his body. And though he struggled hard, he couldn't get himself loose. Out of the corner of his eye, Skipper saw Kowalski readying a small black pellet that was one of their gas bombs. Skipper slid as far away from Private's writhing form as he could, then nodded shortly to Kowalski. He couldn't believe how well the plan was working. He really couldn't believe how well the plan was working…

Skipper suddenly felt cold and he knew what was about to happen. As Kowalski through the bomb toward Private, Private managed to get to his feet for one moment and bounce the bomb off his head and into the sewer. There was only the faintest wisp of smoke in the air now, which Private took great pains to avoid. Skipper groaned.

"Of course," he said softly, "Of course." He turned to Kowalski, "Do you have another one?"

Kowalski shook his head, "That was Rico's only one. All the others are just smoke. So what do we do –" He stopped abruptly. Skipper strained his ears to hear the soft sound he hadn't been paying much attention to. A kind of sawing sound.

Skipper's eyes darted to Private, but it was too late. He was already standing and freeing himself from the torn pieces of the net. Skipper caught the glint of silver in Private's flipper and understood. Blowhole had given Private a knife. To make it just a little more difficult for Skipper, Rico, and Kowalski to get out alive. Or a lot more difficult. They weren't used to fighting an armed attacker. Not one with a knife anyway. Skipper thought of all those punches Private had managed to throw at him. With a knife in Private's flipper, each of those hits could easily be fatal.

"Get going, Kowalski," Skipper said coldly, "You and Rico are getting out of here."

"Skipper! No!" Kowalski protested, "We're staying here with you!"

"Yeah!" Rico agreed.

"If you stay here, he's going to kill you," Skipper said through a gritted beak, "He will kill us all if we stay here much longer. I'm going to stay here and do what I can to disable him. You are going to run to the rockets and if I'm not out of here in five minutes, you're going to go back to the zoo."

"Skipper, you're our leader; we're not just going to leave you behind!" Kowalski said.

"That was an order, soldier." Kowalski swallowed hard and was about to say something else before Skipper cut him off, saying: "Go! Now!" and gave Kowalski a shove toward the manhole.

Skipper didn't even look to see if he was gone before he jumped in front of Private and put up his flippers. He took a deep breath. Private wasted no time in thrusting out the knife toward Skipper's face. Skipper jerked to one side and just managed to miss the blade. Private swiped at him again and again and it was all Skipper could do to avoid it. He didn't even try to throw a punch; even getting close to Private would mean death. Suddenly, Skipper had an idea. He leaped up into the air, as high as he could go, above Private's head. The knife flashed out, but only managed to inflict a shallow cut on his side. It screamed with pain, but Skipper did his best to ignore it. The second he landed on the ground, he kicked Private's legs out from under him, causing him to collapse on the ground. Skipper jumped on top of him and tried his best to wrestle the knife from Private's grasp.

It only took a moment for Skipper to comprehend the truly dangerous situation he was in. Private's grip was too strong to break. And if Skipper loosened his hold on Private's flipper for even a moment, it would only be too easy for Private to stab him from here. Skipper cursed himself for his stupidity. But he wasn't a goner yet. He could still get out of here if he could only _think._

Skipper let go of Private's flipper and, using Private's belly as a launching pad, jumped onto the concrete. As he was doing so, Private's empty flipper shot up and struck him hard in the face.

Skipper fell on his back, stunned, unable to move. Private's foot crushed into his cheek, slamming his head against the hard floor of the sewer. Blood gushed once more from his beak. Private sat firmly on his chest. With his one open eye, Skipper could see Private's face pull in close to his. Those menacingly black eyes were inches from Skipper's own.

"Good work, Private," came Dr. Blowhole's voice from somewhere to Skipper's left, "Finish him off!" Skipper's heart pounded loudly in his chest. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move. He could only watch as Private raised the knife above his head.

"Private!" Skipper rasped, "Don't! Please!" Amazingly, miraculously, Private hesitated. The flipper holding the knife trembled. Skipper wiped some of the blood from his face, and went on, hoping with all his might that the words would prolong his life, if only by a few moments, "Even if you kill me, Rico and Kowalski will still remember you as their brother. No matter what you'd have done. They'd still love you. We have a _brotherhood_, Private." Private's pupils contracted slightly, enlarging the ring of blue.

"_Skipper_," Private breathed, "_I…I… I have to_!" Private's flipper still clutched the knife, but it was shaking like mad now.

"No you don't," Skipper said, "You don't have to do anything! You're stronger than Blowhole, Private. You can beat him. You're the leader of this mission."

"Private!" Dr. Blowhole said sharply, "What are you waiting for? Do as I command! Destroy him!" Private's eyes were suddenly black again, and his face was contorted with rage. He steadied his grasp on the knife, raised it a little higher…

"_Brothers_, Private," Skipper whispered, "Brothers." Skipper heard the whistling of the knife. He closed his eyes and braced himself.

"NO!" The shout was like thunder, echoing off the walls of the sewer. The weight on his chest lessened. There was a clatter and a shrill scream of pain. Skipper didn't dare open his eyes, for fear that it was _his_ scream, and that he was now dead.

"It's alright, Skipper," he heard Private's voice say shakily, "It's alright now. You can open your eyes." Skipper did so, and initially his vision was blurry. When it cleared, he could see that Private was standing at his side, staring at him with concern, his bright blue eyes shining.

"Private…" Skipper whispered. He didn't know what else to say.

Suddenly, there was a cry of anguish coming from a few feet away. Skipper shifted his head a few centimeters and saw Blowhole's Segway standing placidly a few inches from its fallen rider. Blowhole was lying on his side panting, a pool of blood spreading out around him. The black hilt of the knife was just visible on his dorsal fin, a trickle of blood running from the wound.

"He won't bleed to death," Private said bitterly, "At least, I don't think so. He'd deserve it, if he did though." Skipper couldn't take his eyes off Blowhole, who was sobbing piteously. Private was right. The madman didn't deserve to live, after what he had done to Skipper's team, after what he had done to _Private_. Still, it felt a little too cold just to leave him to die.

"Maybe we could just wrap the wound?" Skipper suggested.

"No," Private said firmly. Skipper was shocked by his tone. This was not the same Private he remembered, "You said it before, Skipper. You said this was my mission. I don't care if I'm the leader after this; I don't _want_ to be the leader. But this is still my mission to complete. And I'll be damned if I'm going to give Blowhole any sympathy after what he did."

Skipper was frightened. He was frightened by the way Private spoke and the anger in his voice when he said it. But he also knew that Private had just saved his life. And he knew that he could hardly argue with him after what he had been through. Skipper looked again at the line of stitches across Private's skull. For better or for worse, Private was a different bird. But Skipper knew that, no matter what, he would never think of him as a boy again. Today, Private had proved that he was a man.

"Okay, Private," Skipper said quietly, "Let's go and find Rico and Kowalski." And together they walked past Blowhole without even glancing at him. Skipper led Private to the manhole that would bring them outside.

"Wait!" Blowhole wailed, "You can't just _leave_ me here!" Skipper helped Private through the manhole and followed him out. He didn't look back once.

At some point, while they were in the sewer, night had fallen. The stars that glittered above them seemed much brighter here than they did in the city. Skipper was entranced by their beauty.

"Look, Private," Skipper said softly, "Look at the stars." And Private collapsed against Skipper and sobbed, tears coursing down his cheeks in torrents.

Skipper held him tight as he cried.


	10. Epilogue

Epilogue

**Final chapter. For those of you who don't know what "Epilogue" means. It also means that it's a shorter one.**

* * *

><p>A few days later, Skipper pulled Private aside after training. It was the first time since Private had come back that they had practiced. The first two days after his return, Private had been bedridden with a high fever, an effect, Kowalski guessed, of the stress his body had been under. Kowalski ran some tests and determined that a few days of rest would be enough for him to recover. Skipper stopped pressing Kowalski for fancy medicines after that. But he did stay by Private's side for every minute that he was ill, occasionally pacing the HQ and putting a fresh wet washcloth on Private's head every few minutes. Private slept through this all, sometimes still and sometimes fitfully. He would cry out at times, something that caused the feathers on the back of Skipper's neck to stand on end. Kowalski had to force Skipper into bed as well for both nights that Private was sick.<p>

"It won't help him one bit if you get sick too!" Kowalski insisted. On the third morning, however, Private had woken with his fever broken and his stomach growling. As he ate, Private was all apologies, saying again and again just how _sorry_ he was for everything he had done from the time Kowalski's invention had zapped him. Eventually, Skipper, fed up with this, shouted, "Enough, Private, enough!" Of course, there was no real anger in his voice, "Seriously, soldier! None of what happened was your fault. So hush up about it!" Then, a bit softer, "Private, you saved my life. I think I could forgive you any crime just for that!"

Private scowled. "You're forgetting a crucial detail, Skipper. _I could have killed you!_ That is hardly worth forgiveness."

"But you didn't kill me, Private," Skipper reminded him, "And that makes all the difference." Private had been about to protest when he'd suddenly gotten a splitting headache. Skipper had immediately rushed over to him, and tried to help Private into bed, but he'd refused, denying that he was in any terrible pain. Kowalski said that the headache was probably just another result of what Blowhole had done to him.

"I could probably fix it, if you'd like," Kowalski said, though his tone was doubtful, "But I'd need to look inside to see what damage had been done." Private refused him outright, and his answer was unchanged the next morning, even though his headache still persisted.

"Even if you were 100% sure that you'd be able to fix the problem," he said, "I wouldn't want you to. I don't want anyone else tampering around in my head. Besides," he continued with a crooked smile, "I think I've had enough of sharp objects for a lifetime. Hey, Skipper! Maybe you and I will become phobia buddies!" Skipper laughed, mostly for the fact that Private was able to joke at all. Private was definitely different, there was no question, but if he was able to joke like this, at least he wasn't depressed. And Skipper couldn't help but marvel at the strength Private must have to be able to remain happy after what he'd been through. It was for this reason that Skipper had wanted to speak with Private alone, after Rico and Kowalski had gone inside after training.

"What is it, Skipper?" Private said immediately. His tone was apprehensive, as if he was worried he was about to be yelled at.

"I just wanted to check up on you," Skipper replied, "You know, to see how you've been doing." Private smiled and rolled his eyes.

"I'm fine, Skipper. Really. I mean, I feel really guilty about everything I did, but like you said, it wasn't really my fault." Skipper smiled and let him continue, "You should know that nothing I said or did had anything to do with how I really feel."

"I've actually been wondering about that," Skipper said, "It seems to me that all Kowalski's invention should have done to you was make you more willing to stand up for yourself and speak your mind. So all those things you said…would be things you actually wanted to say."

Private suddenly looked uncomfortable, "Uh…Well, Skipper, I…uh…It can't be a surprise to you, that I don't like being slapped. I don't think Rico or Kowalski do either. But I do understand that it's a necessary part of discipline and part of being the leader. And I really, truly, don't want to be the leader," Private looked Skipper straight in the eye, "At least not now. I'm not ready."

"That may be so," Skipper said, "But as much as I'd hate to admit it, you did a pretty good job managing the team for a while."

"Did I?" Private said, "Honestly, Skipper, most of that was a blur for me. I think we did something with Fred…?"

"Well, I was impressed. And I think that even without that invention, you'd make one heck of a leader." Skipper said. Private shifted slightly, not sure of where the conversation was heading. Only Skipper knew that.

"If this was a movie, Skipper, I'm pretty sure this would be the point where you try to kill me off to ensure your continued role as the leader," Private said, smiling weakly.

"Yeah, well, this isn't a movie," Skipper said, unsure of whether to be amused or annoyed, "I'm just going to cut to the chase, Private. I want you to be my new second-in-command."

Private blinked, "What?"

"I want to make you my First Lieutenant," Skipper said, "If that's alright with you of course."

Private was thunderstruck. "But-but-but…but what about Kowalski?" he stuttered.

"I've already talked it over with him," Skipper said, "And he agrees. Even when you weren't zapped by his invention, you've shown excellent leadership qualities in the past. Kowalski understands that you'd do a much better job of being my second than he could."

"Skipper," Private began, "I already said I don't want to be the leader. I've got so much more to learn…I don't need to be promoted early…I shouldn't be promoted above Rico and Kowalski. They've got much more experience. I mean, I appreciate the gesture, but it's just not necessary. I'm just not _ready_."

"I think you're wrong. You're not a little kid anymore. And I wouldn't have requested you become my second-in-command if I didn't think you were ready. It's true you have a lot to learn. But you'll learn faster, I think, with a higher rank, a more demanding position on the team. And," Skipper continued, "There's no one I'd feel more comfortable with taking over my position."

Private's eyes boggled, "You're not leaving, are you, Skipper?"

Skipper chuckled. "No such luck. But if the time should come that I'm incapacitated or otherwise deemed unfit for command…I want you to take charge."

"I'd be honored, Skipper," Private said softly, "Thank you, sir."

"No problem, Lieutenant," Skipper answered with a salute.

"You'll still call me Private though, right?"

Skipper smirked, "That would be just fine by me."

The End

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed andor added "The Leader" to their favorites! I hope you all enjoyed reading it just as much as I did writing it! Also, I really appreciate everyone who stuck with this story even after I went several months without updating. Now onto my next project: Packing for college! **


End file.
